LITTELLS LIVING AGE.No. 359.S APRIL, 1851. From Chambers Papers for the People. fabulous antipodes. In the maps by Picigano, about 1367, Africa is seen similarly defrauded of ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. its fair proportions; butand the fact is remarka FROM the earliest periods of geographical dis- hiethese maps exhibit a western continent named. covery down to the present century, a high degree Antilia, which is supposed to represent South of mystery has attached to the southern regions of America,; the same tmtlines also occur in Andrea. the globe. Long after the seas of the northern Biancos map of 1436. hemisphere had been navigated and explored by The fifteenth century gave birth to a more in- enterprising adventurers, the ocean south of the quiring and adventurous spirit. Encouraged by equator was regarded with the exaggerated drea(l Don Henry, Portuguese navigators doubled Cape which ever attends a low state of knowledge. It Bojador, in 1418, just after the battle of Agincourt,, was there that nature kept some of her profoundest and crept timidly down towards the supposed uriin~ secrets; and, during several generations, man habitable torrid zone. In 1433, the feat was re- shrank from the attempt to penetrate them. Not peated by Gilianez of Lagos; and, within the next to mention the vague speculations of Ptolemy and twenty years, several expeditions had visited Gui- others of the ancient philosophers, we may com- nea and the Cold Coast. At length, in 1486,. anence with the incident recorded by Arabian while numbers in England were mourning the writers, that in 1147, about the time of the second field of Bosworth and the last of the Plantagenets, Crusade, eight individuals sailed to discover the Bartholemew Diaz, a knight of King Juhos house- limits of the Sea of iDarkuess, as the Atlantic itold, sailed with two caravels, of fifty tons each, was then called. They touched at an island on the and a small storeship, to attempt further discover- way, from the natives of which they heard rumors ies. He touched on the coast of Africa, and set of a dense gloom to the southward, and were up a stone l)illar at a point beyond the limit of any so terrified at the prospect, that they abandoned the former voyage, and then, sailing boldly across the voyage. Two Genoese made a similar attempt in ocean, saw land no more until he was forty leagues 1291, and were never afterwards heard of. In maps to the eastward of its southern extremitya dense of this period Africa is made to terminate north of mist, peculiar to that latitude at certain seasons, the equator; a curious one preserved in the library had concealed it from his sight. He had reached at Turio exhibits the outlines of the then known what is now known as Algoa Bay. The crew parts of the world, and an explanatory note, stat- were unwilling to proceed; hut Diaz prevailed oa ing, Beside these three parts of the world, there them to sail twenty-five leagues further, where the is beyond the ocean a fourth, which the extreme coast was seen still trending to the eastward. On heat of the sun prohibits our being cquainted with, returning, he saw the end of the landa view that and on the confln~s of which is the country of the gladdened and rewarded him for his labor and CCCLIx. LIVING AGE. VOL. xxix. 1 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. anxieties, and set up a pillar on the shore to establish the Portuguese claim to the discovery. He had now found the route from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean, then, however, regarded with terror, from the violent storms which almost con- stantly prevailed. It was from these that Diaz called the remote promontory Il Cabo dos Tor- inentos, a designation which it was not long to retain, for, on the return of the adventurers to Lisbon in December, 1487, as related by Camoens At Lishnas court they told their dread escape, And from her ra,ing tempests, named the Cape. Thou southmost Point, the joyful king exclaimed, Cape of Good Hope be thou forever named. In October, 1492, Columbus led the way to trop- ical America; thus within a short period two great routes were opened to the mysterious south- em regions. Vasco de Gamas voyage followed; with a small fleet he rounded the cape on which such hopes were built, and reached Jndia. Ac- cording to the accounts given, it was no easy task. The waves, says the narrator, rose like mountains in height, his ships were heaved tip to the clouds, and now appeared as precipitated by circling whirlpools to the bed of the ocean. The winds were piercing cold, and so boisterous that the pilots voice could seldom be heard, whilst a dismal and almost continual darkness, which at that tempestuous season involves those seas, added greatly to the danger. Sometimes the gale drove them to the southward, at other times they were obliged to stand on the tack, and yield to its fury, preserving what they had gained with the greatest difficulty. During any gloomy interval of the storm, the sailors, wearied out with fatigtie, anti abandoned to despair, surrounded Gama, begging he would not devote himself and crew to so dread- ful a death. They exclaimed that the gale could no longer be weathered ; that every one must be buried in the waves if they continued to proceed. The firmness of the admiral could not be shaken, and a formidable conspiracy was immediately formed against him; but of this desperate proceed- ing he was informed by his brother Paulo. The conspirators and all the pilots were immediately put in irons; ~vhilst Gama, assisted by his brother, and the fe~v who remained steadfast in their duty, stood niTht and day to the helm. Providence rewarded his heroism, and at length, on Wednes- day, the 20th of November, all the squadron doubled this tremendous promontory. Several of the companions of Columbus figure prominently in the history of coastin~ voyages along the American continent. Vincent Yanex Piuzon was the first to cross the line in the western seas; he discovered Brazil a few months before it was seeti by Cabral. In the previous year, 1499, Hojeda had sailed to make discoveries with Amer- igo Vespucci as pilot, and to the latter must per- haps be accorded the merit of the earliest antarctic explorations, lie had made two voyages iii the Spanish service; his third, undertaken in May, 1501, with the daring project of advancing as near as possible to the antarctic pole, ~vas under the auspices of Emmanuel, king of Portugal. The party were embarked in three small vessels, and after sixty-seven days sailing, saw the coast of Brazil. This long run, says Vespucci, we made in great distress, continually beaten by rain and tempests, attended for six weeks with so thick a darkness, that we all gave ourselves for lost. Our pilots were at their wits end, not knowing in what part of the world we were. But the skill I possessed in astronomy and cosmography helped me to direct our course, and my success increased the crews confidence in me, as a very extraordi- nary person. They coasted along, landing occa- stonally, and staying a month at anchor to refresh, and losing some of the crew, who were eaten by the natives, until, as recorded, we had passed the tropic of Capricorn, and brought the north-polo star below the horizon. We then began to regu- late our course by the stars of the southern hemi- sphere, which we found larger and brighter than those of the northern ; and Vespucci boasts that he was the first since Adam and Eve to view the constellation of the Southern Cross. In April, 1502, they had reached the latittude of 52 degrees south. Here, he continues, tIme sea ran so high, that the whole crew expected to perish, it being now winter in those parts, and the nights more than fifteen hours long. On the first day of April I discovered a Terra Australis, which we coasted for twenty leagues. We fuund it all a bold shore, without seeing any port or inhabitants. Here we found it 50 colml, that none of tis could endure it, and the fogs so thick, that we could not see from the one ship to the other. The captain, alarmed at the dangers the ships ran in those seas, resolved to return towards the eqtmator; and lucky it was he did so, for on the two following days the storm was so violent, that, had we continued our intended course, in all probability the sqtiadron had been lost in thick fogs during these long nights. In September of the same year Vespucci was again at Lisbon; when he tttrned back, he was probably somewhere between the Falkland Islands and the mainland; and, had he persevered towards the pole, the southern cape of the new, as well as of the old continent, wotild have been discovered by the Porttmguese. The next expedition was conducted by Juan Diaz de Solis, one of the most able navigators of that day; lie sailed in 1514, and on coming to the great estuary of the Rio de la Plata, or mar duke, as he named it, he thought he had reached the much- desired passage to the western ocean. lie ascended the river for some distance; but. his voyage came to an tinhappy termination; otie day, while on shore, he was captured with five of his crew, and eaten by the natives. From his abilities, we may conclude that, had this catastrophe not occurred, he would have succeeded in the object of his search. Balboas discovery of the great South Sea from a peak in Darieii in 1513, the same year that Flodden Field was fought, had excited the adven- turotis spirits of that adventurous age with eager desires to find a passage from the one ocean to the other: hence the numerotus but abortive coasting voyages in the Gulf of Mexico and to the south- ward. The expedition under Magellan, which sailed from San Lucar in September, 1519, when Luther was setting Germamiy iti a blaze with the fire of the Reformation, had the same object; he was appointed commander of a fleet of five vessels, the largest not more than 120 tons burthen. 0mm arriv- ing in Port St. Julian, after the then usually tedious voyage across the Atlantic, a consultation was held as to their means and prospects; nearly every voice was raised against proceeding; some feared the length of the voyage, others dreaded being aban- doned far from their native country. Magellan, however, determined to winter in the port, and gave orders for the provisions to be issued under allow- ance; whereupon, according to Herrera, the people, on account of the great cold, begged him 2 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. that since the country was found to extend itself towards the antarctic, without showing a hope of finding the cape of this land, nor any strait; and as the winter was setting in severe, and some men dead for want, that he would increase the allowance, or return hack; alleging that it was not the kings intention that they should seek out what was im- possible, and that it was enough to have got where none had ever been; adding, that, going further towards the pole, some furious wind might drive them where they should not get away, and all per- ish. Magalhaens, who was a ready man, and pres- ently hit on a remedy for whatever incident occurred, said that he was very ready to die, or to fulfil what he had promised. He said that the king had ordered him the voyage which was to be performed; and that, at all events, he was to sail till he found the end of that land, or some strait, which they could not fail of doing; and though wintering seemed to he attended with difficulties, there could be none, when .the spring set in, to proceed forward, discovering the coasts of the continent under the antarctic pole, being assured that they must come to a place where a day lasted three months; that he was astonished that men, and Spaniards, could have so much sluggishness. The brave leader ended by avowing his determination to die rather than shamefully to return hack ; and, by the force of his example and encouraging ~vords, succeeded in repressing the discontent for a time. While lying here, several of the natives came down to the anchorage; their stature was such, that the Spaniards regarded them as giants, and, from their rude contrivances for shoes, named them Patagones, or clumsy-hoofed; an appellation which they still retain. Exploring parties were sent out from time to tune to examine the inlets along the coast; one of these parties lost their vessel, and, before they could regain the port, endured so great hard- ships from want of food and severity of the climate, as to be scarcely recognizable in their wretched and emaciated condition. Discontent again broke Out; some of the ringleaders were condemned to be left on shorea miserable fate; a mutinous captain was stabbed, and another condemned to be hanged with a youth of his crew; and because they had no executioner, the boy, to save his own life, accepted of the office, and hung his master, and quartered him. Refractoriness on the part of the crews was one of the greatest obstacles which the leaders of early voyages had to contend against. The fleet put to sea a second time in October, 1520, and shortly afterwards came to the mouth of a great strait, which ran so far into the land, as flattered all on board must be the wished-for passage. Con- sidering the question as settled, the pilots demanded to return to Spain for larger and better-furnished vessels wherewith to enter on the unknown navi- gation ; but Magellan replied, that if even he thought they could be reduced to the necessity of eatiog the hides which were on the yards, he would go on to discover what he had promised the em- peror; for he trusted God would assist them, and bring them to a good conclusion. One of the vessels was wrecked, the crew of another abandoned the enterprise, so that but three ships were left to explore the strait. Magellan, however, bore up against the difficulties of an intricate navigation. While sailing along, says Herrera, they ob- served the land here was very ragged and cold; and because they saw in the night many fires, it was named Terra, dcl Fuego. At length, on the 27th November, he sailed into the great South Sea, giving infinite thanks to God that he had permitted him to find what was so much desired, and that he was the first who had found the passage so much sought afier. Whereby the memory of this excel- lent captain shall be eternally celebrated. Although Magellan had been anticipated by Bal.~ boa in embarking on the waters of the ocean, td which he gave the name of Pacific, he was the first European to navigate it with ships. By i~ singular fatality, he chose a track on which, during more than 3000 miles, he saw no other land than two insignificant islets, while his crew were dis2 pirited and half-starved: Waste and wild The view! On the same sunshine oer the waves The murmuring mariners, with languid eye, Een till the heart is sick, gaze day by day. Their chief, as is well known, did not live to reap the fruit of his labors, having been killed in a bat-~ tle with the natives of one of the Philippine Islands, and but one of his vessels returned to Europe. This voyage was the more remarkable, as being the first circumnavigation of the globe, and the first occa- sion of seamen finding the loss of a day in their reckoning; a fact which caused much surprise at that time, and baffled the learned in their attempts to account for it. Pigafetta, a contemporary historian, says of this voyage, These were mariners who surely merited an eternal memory, more justly than the Argonauts of old. The ship, too, undoubtedly deserved far better to be placed among the stars than their ship Argo: for this, our wonderful ship, taking hei departure from the Straits of Gibraltar, and sail- ing south~vards throtfgh the great ocean towards the Antarctic Pole, and then turning west, fol- lowed that course so long, that, passing round, sh~ came into the east, and thence again into the west1 not by sailing back, but proceeding constantly for- ward; so compassing about the globe of the world, until she marvellously regained her native conntry.~ Spain, and the port from which she departed, Seville. Several other expeditions followed, undertaken by adventurers on their own account, or with the sanction of the governmental authorities. Loaysa was sent out with a fleet by Spain, in 1526, to lay claim to the Mollucas; and according to some accounts, Iluces, one of his captains, was driven so far to the southward, that he saw the end of the land. But so much disaster, misery, and pri- vation attended lengthened voyages at that early period, that no other important expedition sailed until the famous one under Drake in 1577. The time had come for Englishmen to exhibit their skill and hardihood in distant navigation, and the cir- cumstances were such as to favor and stimulate their manifestation. Pope Alexander VI. had decided by a bull that a line drawn from the north pole to the south, 100 leagues west of the Azores, should be the dividing line between the possessions of the Spaniards and the Portuguese, to whom all the new discoveries were to belong; a decision which produced the remark from the king of Prance, Since the kings of Spain and Portugal divide the whole world between them, I wish that they would show me the will of our father Adam, that I might see in what terms he has constituted them sole heirs. Supported by such authority, the two powers often came into conflict; and the jeal- ous and arrogant spirit displayed by Spain towards a 4 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. other competitors, tended to provoke a formidable with snow, looking like Norway. It seemed to rivalry on the part of such a people as the English, extend to the Islands of Salomon. This moun- animated by an ardent spirit of enterprise. To tainous land is now supposed to be the South prevent others from following on their tracks the Shetlands, which were rediscovered some 200 Spaniards for a long time kept their maps and years after the event above recorded. The Ilol- charts studiously secreta mean and selfish policy, landers were not slow in pushing their traY~ into in which they were afterwards imitated by the the new countries; the Dutch East India Coin- Dutch with respect to their eastern possessions, pany despatched a fleet under Spilberg, and and also by the Hudsons Bay Company regarding claimed the monopoly of trade to India by the theirs in the north. Cape of Good hope and the Straits of Magellan, Drake sailed from Plymouth in December, 1577, a restriction unfavorable to other merchants, by with a fleet of five vessels, the largest 100 tons whom it was complained of. The States-General, burthen. In August of the following year he to resolve the difficulty, and promote discovery, entered the Straits of Magellan, greatly to the declared that the (liseoverer of a new passage to surprise and disappointment of the Spaniards, India should be rewarded with the profit of the who, until then, had believed that no stranger first four voyages. The opportunity was not neg- would venture on or succeed in so hazardous an lected: Le Maire, a sagacious and wealthy mer- enterprise. He effected the passage in seventeen chant of Amsterdam, who had studied the subject, days: on reaching the western mouth, the fleet came to the conclusion that such a passage existed, was separated by a tempest, and Drake was left and took measures to verify his opinion. Two with only two vessels to l)rosectmte his voyage, ships, the Unity and the horn, were privately The foul weather, however, ~vas the cause of an equipped, and sent out under command of Wil- interesting incident : I remember, says Sir ham Schouten and Le Maires son in 1615: in R. Hawkins in his narrative, that Sir Francis November they anchored in Port Desire for refresh- Drake told me, that having shot the Straits, a rnent and repairs, and while here, the horn was storme took him first at north-west, and after accidentally burnt. They resumed their voyage vered about to south-west, which continued with in January, 1616, the year in ~vhich Baffins Bay him many dayes, with that extremitie, that he was discovered, and on the 24th, in the fore- could not open any sayle, and that at the end of noon, saw laud a-starboard, about a leagues dis- the storme he found himn~elfe in fiftie degrees, tance, stretching out east and south, with very which was sufficient testimony and proof that he high hills, all covered with ice ; and then other was beaten round about the Straits, for the least land bearing east from it, high and rugged as the height of the Straits is in fiftie-two degrees and former. They guessed the lands they had in these fiftie minutes, in which stand the two entrances or two prospects lay about eight leagues asunder, mouths. And moreover, he said, that standing and that there might be a good passage between about when the winde changed, he was not well them, because of a pretty brisk current that ran able to double the southermost iland, and so anch7 sout~hward along by them. They saw an incredi- ored under the lee of it; and, going ashore, car- ble number of penguins, and such large shoals of tied a compasse with him, and seeking out time whales, that they were forced to proceed ~vith southermost part of the iland, cast himselfe downe great caution, for fear they should run their ship umpon the uttermost point groveling, and so reached upon them. 3ut his body over it. Presently he imbarked, and The 25th, in the forenoon, they got close up then recounted unto his people that lie had beene by the east land ; this they called States Land, and upon the southermost knowne land in the world, to that which lay west they gave the name of and tnore further to the southwards upon it tlmaim Manrice Land. In the evening, having a south- any of them, yea or any man as yet knowne. west wind, they steered southwards, meeting with flere the gallant captain saw the Atlantic Ocean mighty waves, that came rolling along before the and the South Sea meet in a large arid free scope : wind, and the depth of the water to the leeward he was detained by the storm fifty-one days, and from them, which appeared by some very evident occupied himself in observing the maimers of the signs, gave them a full assurance that the great Datives, to whose islands he gave the name of South Sea was now before them, into which they Elizabethides. his further exploits do not fall had almost made timeir way by a passage of their witimin our purpose; suffice it, that lie was the own discovering. Time 29th they saw land again first Emighishnuami who sailed rotund the world, and this was the high hilly land, covered with snow, completed the voyage in two years and ten montlus. that lay southward from the Magellanic Straits, The first attempts of time Ermglish to sail roumud emiding in a sharp point, which they called Cape the Cape of Good Hope were made in 1591, with Horn, and now they gathered full assurance that three vessels, one of which only, Sir Jetties Lan- the way was open into time South Sea. The igth casters, reached India. Shortly afterwards, when of February they plainly discovered the Magellanic Philip of Spain immvaded holland, the Dutch in- Straits lying east of them ; and therefore, now solved to attack the Spanish possessions in Amer- being secure of their happy new discovery, they ica, amid in 1593 sent omit Oliver Van Noort and an rendered thanks to good fortune in a cup of wine, English pilot named Mehhish with four vessels : which went three timnes round the company. If they were the pioneers of that commercial nation the accoumuts concerning Huces and Drake are to be in the southern regions. Another fleet of five depended on, Cape Horn had been twice before dis- ships sailed from Rotterdam in the same year: covered in the course of the preceding century. one of the captains, Sebald de Weert, discovered a Le Maires name was given to the newly dis- group of Islands which for a long time bore his covered strait, and thus the utmost southern point namne; they are now better knowum as time Falk- of the American continent was made known, and lands. Old Purchas relates that Theodore Gerards an open passage found from the Atlantic to the (Gerritz), one of th t fleet, was carried by tem- Pacific Ocean. An enterprise so well considered, pe t, as they write, to 64 degrees south, in which and successfully carried omit, should have had a height the country was mountainous, and covered satisfactory termination. But on the arrival of the ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. Unity at Bantam in October, the president of the Dutch East India Company confiscated the vessel and her cargo, declaring Schouten and his com- panions to be unlawful traders, and bade them seek redress in Holland. Spilhergs ships were then t5out to sail on their homeward voyage, and severat of the discomfited adventurers took passage by iheni. Le Maire died from vexation after they had been two weeks at sea; and Schonten reached Holland in July, 1617, having accomplished his journey round the world in two years and eighteen days, and f:iiled to ohtain redress for the injustice of which he had been the victim. His voyage affords an instance of sagacious thought finding its confirmation in experience. Another Spanish expedition under the Nodals, accompanied by Dutch pilots, sailed in 1618, to verify Schoutens discoveries ; it returned, after surveying the coasts of Terra del Foego. And in 1623, the Nassau fleet, composed of eleven Dutch ships of ~var, arrived in the same latitudes; the commander, Jacques le Hermite, found that several passages existed by which the Pacific could be reached without doubling the Horn or passing through the Straitsa fact confirmed by the late surveytng voyage of Captain King in the Bea~le. One of Hermites vessels went as high as 60~, and rounded the Cape without once seeing it. Meantime Pedro Fernandez de Quiros, in a memorial to the viceroy of Peru, had reqitested permission to plough op the waters of the un- known sea, and to seek out the utidiscovered lands around the antarctic pole, the cetitre of that hon- zon. With De Qaiiros to the south Still urge the way, if yet some continent Stretch to its dusky pole, ~vith nations spread, Fdrests, and hills, and streams. The north, he shows, was known up to the 70th degree of latitude, while of the south part is dis- covered to 55 de~rees only, passing the Strait of Magalhaens; and to 35 degrees, in which is the Cape of Good hope ; or 40 degrees and a little more, to which ships go in doubling it. Now are wanting the rest which remain from these, and from this parallel and to the west, from a lower latitude, to 90 degrees, to know if it is land or water, or wltat part there is of both. It was supposed, from the voyages that had been ntade to the Philippittes and otlter islands of the Pacific, that a great land existed towards the pole, the antipodes to the greater part of Ettrope, Africa, and Asia, where from 20 degrees to 60 degrees, God has made men so useful. Qitiros sailed from Lima in 1605 in company with Torres ; he discovered twenty-three islands, among which his Sagittaria artd Eitcarnacion are belie ;ed to be Tahiti atid Pit- cairn~s Island. And so confidetit was he that a greater extent of lattd would be fottnd, that, on his retttrtt, in his comatuttication 10 Phtilip II., he declared, in the southern parts lies hid a quarter of the lobe. In 1606, Torres saw another great land, now knowtt as Autstralia, which, with sotne show of probability, might have been tlte continent itnag med by his companion. Within the next twetity- five years, the north and ~vest shores of that vast island were surveyed by Dutch navigators, and there is reason to believe that it had been visited by the Spaniards and Portuguese nearly a century earlier, as it is laid down in maps drawn about the, year 1550, which are preserved itt the British Mu- seum; but, in accordance with the jealous policy of those people, the knowledge of it was kep secret. For some time this new discovery was supposed to be the great sottth land; and, in 1642, Van Die- men, the governor of Batavia, settt Tasman to make exploratiotis. Itt this voyage the geography of the region was determitted ; the extreme southern por- tion of the land was sailed round, and named after the governor, and its disconnectiort with an Austral continent comtclusively proved. Tasotan afterwards discovered New Zealand; and, possessed with the ideas of the period, he imagitred that this remote island stretched away, and united ~vith the Staten Latid of Schouten and Le Maire at Terra del Foe- go, and hoped it was part of the unknown south continent. As an ackttowledgment of Tasmans services by tlte States-General, the large islatid was named New Holland. Those daring sea-rovers, the Bucaneers, while pushing their lawless crtrises, for greater part of the seventeenth century, wherever the hope of plutider led them, contributed materially, though irtdirectly, to extend the limits of geographical in- search. Dampier and Wafer were among the party who marched across the Isthmus of Pananta; and embarking in several canoes which they had stolen, rowed ottt to sea, and made prize of a vessel lying at anchor. Emboldened by success, they attacked and took larger ships, and in these traversed the Pacific Oceatt. One of their captures was turned adrift as useless, with seven hundred pigs of metal on board, which thiey sttpposed to be lead ; after- wards, whett they caine to make bullets from a lump which they htad kept, the lead proved to be silver. Desirous of redotening the Atlantic, they stretched boldly to the southwards till they met with ice, and doubled Cape Horn; and inspired so much confidence by their resolute perseverance, that a voyage round South America caine to be re- garded with diminished apprehension. Dampier was afterwards appt)inted to the cotnmand (if a vessel, fitted otit by the governinent of William III., in which lie mitade further discoveries in New Holland and other southern countries. The war which broke out between Euglatid and Spain in 1739 lcd to Ansons famous voyage, which, though in many respects unfortunate, widened the boun- daries of geographical knowledge. The wreck of one of the squadron, the Wager, on the coast of Terra del Fuego, although it gave the survivors an intimate kitowledge of the country, will always be remembered as a most melancholy incident in the annals of disaster. Nothitig can be imagined, says the historian of the expedition, more savage and gloomy titan the whole aspect of this coast. In dotubhitig Cape Horn, we had a continual suc- cession of such tempestuous weather as surprised the oldest and most experienced manitrers on board, and obliged them to confess that what they ha4 hit herto called storms were inconsiderable gales coml)ared with the vinulence of these winds, which raised such shuout, and, at the same time, such moo ntai nouts waves, as greatly.surpassed iii danger all seas known inn any other part of the globe. And he laments that the squadron would be separated never to unite again, atud that this day of our ~)assage would he the last cheerful day that the greatest part of us wouluh ever live to enjoy. ITp to this period, arid for snume time afterwards, the idea of a great southern continent was still en- tertained: philosophers argued iii favor of it, for without a mass of land at the antipodes to counter- balance the preponderance in the north, the inm. 5 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. equality of weight would cause the earth to rotate strong collier ship, the Endeavour, was selected; in the opposite direction! Among the maps pub- and in August, 1768, Cook sailed. Banks and So- lished in Purchas Pilgrims is one which lander were on board as naturalists. They were represents South America as terminating at the thirty-four days in beating round the Horn ; and Strait of Marellan, by which it is separated from after observing the transit, steered for New Zealand, a huge continent, larger, apparently, than any and disproved Tasmans supposition as to the con- other division of the world, and named Terra Aus- nection of those islands with the southern continent. tralis Incognita; and that ~vhich accompanies Dam- The eastern coast of New Holland was afterwards piers narrative contains the same delineation, but surveyed, from the spot where the Dutch navigator in a less exaggerated form. Every newly-discov- left off, to Torres Straits, an extent of more than ered island was supposed to be an outlying portion 2000 miles. Cook landed and took possession of of the antarctic land, until, one after the other, their the country, giviog it the name of New South southern extremities were explored. After all Wales, and returned to England in 1770, after an so difficult is it to give up a long cherished belief absence of two years and eleven months. arguments were still adduced to show that the A French expedition went out shortly afterwards, connection might exist in the shape of a chain of commanded by the unfortunate Marion, who was islands: Africa and America were probably con- eaten by the New Zealanders. One of his lienten- nected in that way, and these again with the Terra ants, Kerguelen, discovered land in 50~ 5 south in Incognita. The essential differences of natural February, 1772, and hastened back to France with phenomena, as observed in the north and in the glowing accounts of an antarctic continent. This south, were also matter for speculation, and not a was the most southerly land then known in the little error was mixed up with the truth. Acostas Atlantic. Cook touched at it during his third voy- treatise affords numerous instances. Many in age, in 1776, and called it Desolation Island; but it Europe, he writes, demand of what forine and is generally known by the name of its first discov- fashion heaven is in the southerne part; for that erer. there is no certaintie found in ancient books, who, Although Cook had shown that New Zealand although they grant there is a heaven on this other was not united to the Terra Australis incognita, it part of the world, yet come they not to any knowl- was still thought that a continent would be found. edge of the form thereof. Ice was met with in An expedition to search for it was sanctioned by the lower latitudes than in the north; the seasons were government; and Cook went out a second time with less genial; the climate of Staten Land and Terra two vessels, the Resolution and Adventure, the latter del Fuego would bear no comparison with that of commanded by Captain Furneaux, who had held countries lying in a similar latitude in the opposite the post of lieutenant under Wallis. To make zone. One reason assigned for the difference was, the voyage as complete as possible, a number of that the sun remained eight days longer in the scientific men and skilled artists were attached to northern than in the southern hemisphere, and that the vessels, and every means taken to promote the the north was nearer to the sun during winter, health of the crews. They sailed in July, 1772; rhese, with many other absurd notions, were, and in January of the following year were in 670 15 however, to disappear before the increasi[ig intelli- south latitude, where further progress was stopped gence of the period to which we are now approach- by ice, and for the first time the aurora australis ing. was observed. After a run of 11,000 miles, with- out once seeing land, Cook anchored at New Zea- In 1764, Commodore Byron, who had been land to refit, from whence he again advanced to- wrecked in the Wager, sailed with two armed wards the antarctic pole, in such a direction as to vessels to make discoveries of countries hitherto take advantage of the currents setting from west to unknown ; for, as stated in his instructiojis, there east. On the 29th January, 1774, when in latitude was reason to believe that lands or islands of great 71~ 10 south, longitude 106~ 54 west, a point far extent, hitherto unvisited by any European power, beyond all those previously attained, he was stopped may be found in the Atlantic Ocean between the once more by ice, extending, as he believed, to the Cape of Good Hope and the Magellanic Strait, with pole; yet, from the number of birds flying about the in the latitudes convenient fi,r navigation. This ship, he judged there must be land behind the ice; voyage lasted twenty-two months, without enlarg- and he who had ambition not only to go further ing the limits of southern exploration. The cx- than any one had gone before, but as far as it was pedition by Wall is and Carteret in the Dolphin and possible for man to go, was compelled to renounce swallow followed in 1766. The ships were four his hope of penetrating nearer to the south. He moutus in passing the straits; and, having been subsequently traversed the whole of the Southern separated in a gale, did not meet again during the Pacific, the first time the feat had ever been accom-~ cruise. Carteret rediscovered Pitenirns Island, and plished ; rounded Cape Horn with more calms Wallis Tahiti. The latter was unable to account than storms ; surveyed the islands of Terra del for the natives being somewhat acquainted with the Fuego; and started on a high latitude to cross the use of iron, but the prior discovery by Quiros fur- South Atlantic in January, 1775. On the 14th land nishes a sufficient explanation. Bougainvilles was seen ; and on the 17th, the great navigator second voyage was also undertaken at the same landed to take possession, although he did not think time. that any one would ever be benefited by the dis- We come now to the voyages of Captain Cook; covery. He named it Isle of Georgia, and de- these had a definite scientific object. Astronomers scribes it as savage and horrible. The wild were (lesirous that the transit of Venus over the rocks raised their lofty summits till they were lost suns disk, which took place in 1769, should be in the clouds, and the valleys lay covered with ever- observed on the other side (if the world as well as lasting snow. Not a tree was to be seen, not a in Europe; the determination of some highly im- shrub even big enough to make a toothpick. portant astronomical questions depended on it. Who would have thought, he adds, that Wallis, who had just returned, recommended a bay an island of no greater extent than this, situated in Tahiti as a suitable locality for the purpose. A between the latitude of 540 55, should in the very ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. height of summer be in a manner wholly covered many fathoms deep with frozen snow l Although he saw much ice, he concluded that a greater extent of land was required for its formation than here seen, and he hoped to discover a continent. Yet he says, I must confess the disappointment I now met with did not affect me much; for to judge cf the hulk by the sample, it would not be worth the discovery. In this part of his cruise Cook had no intention of going higher than 60 degrees, unless induced to do so by real signs of land. On the 30th, when in latitude 590 13 30 south islands were seen, which he called Sandwich Land and Southern Thule, because it is the most southern land that has ever yet been discovered. The great navigator shrewdly conjectured that a greater expanse of land existed nearer the pole, and that it projected most towards the north in the region of the South Atlantic and Indian Oceans, as more ice was always found there than in the South Pacific. Yet he declared him- self hold enough to say that no man will ever venture further than I have done, and that the lands which lie to the south will never he explored * * * Lands doomed by nature to perpetual frigidness; never to feel the warmth of the suns rays; whose horrible and savage aspect I have not words to describe. Subsequent eveuts have proved that in these re- spects Cook was simply mistaken. Not so in his explorations. His determination of positions and accuracy of surveys are beyond all praise; few per- sons have rendered greater services to the science of geography. He was, besides, the first to prove that remote expeditions did not necessarily involve waste of life; for, on returning to England in 1775, after a voyage of three years and eighteen days, he brought back the whole of his crew in health, with the exception of four lost by casualties. After this, publishers left the Terra Australis Incognita out of their maps. A contemporary of Cooks, Alexander Dalrym- pIe, afterwards hydrographer to the Admiralty, had long entertained a belief in the existence of au ant- arctic continent, and frequently importuned the gov- ernment to send him out with an expedition to colonize the probable country. He drew up a sin- gular code of laws by which the settlement was to be governed; women were to have equal privileges with men; all lawyers were to be subjected to per- petual imprisonment; bachelors and maids to be taxed; none hut copper money; and accounts of the government expenses to he submitted to the public every Sunday. Had this project been real- ized within the antarctic circle, iDalrymple would have proved himself a colonizer of no common order. After Cooks second voyage, no further advance was made in antarctic exploration until within the first quarter of the present century. In 1818, Cap- tain Smith, while on a course from Monte Video to Valparaiso, saw a long line of coast, as it appeared to him, hi latitude 620. He reported the fact to the commander of the Andromache, then lying in the port to which he was bound, who sent an offi- cer to survey the land. It was found to consist of a group of twelve principal islands, surrounded by countless rocks and rocky islets, which are now known as the South Shetlands, of which Gerritz caught a glimpse in 1599. In 1820, Weddell dis- covered t.he South Orkucys; and in 1821, Belling- hausen, a Russian in command of the Vostok, pen- etrated as far as 69 degreesthe first time that the antarctic circle had been crossed since Cooks voy- age. Powell and Palmer, two Englishmen, also made some explorations about this period. In 1822, an expedition sailed from the Downs, which reminds one of the enterprises of former days in the small size of the vessels, a brig and cutter; the one 160 tons, the other 65. They were commanded by Weddell and Brisbatie, and were provisioned for a sealing voyage of two years. In the first part of their cruise they proved the non-existence of the supposed continent connecting Sandwich~ Land and the South Shetlands; and on the 18th February, 1823, were in latitude 72~ 24 where not a particle of ice was to be seen ; and on the 20th, in 740 15, 214 miles beyond Cooks furthest. Here, although the sea continued open, and Wed- dell believed that no more land lay to the south to prevent access to the pole, he judged it most pru- dent, from the lateness of the season, to return. On anchoring at South Georgia, in March, he de- scribes the sight of that desolate land as a gladness to their eyes after their lengthened and daring cruise. The trade to this island, which began soon after Cooks report concerning it was published, has shown how fallacious were his predictions. In the course of a few years, it furnished more than a million of seal-skins, and 20,000 tons of oil to the London market; and Kerguelen Island has proved not less profitable. Mr. Weddell states that dur- ing the time these two islands have been resorted to for the purposes of trade, more than 2000 tons of shipping, and from 200 to 300 seamen, have been employed annually in the traffic. From the South Shetlands, also, in 1821 and 1822, 940 tons of oil and 320,000 seal-skins were obtained. In 1829, the South Shetlands were visited by the Chanticleer surveying-ship ; in common with all the other lands of the Antarctic Ocean, they were found to be volcanic; some of them rising to a height of between 6000 and 7000 feet. Lieuten- ant Kendal describes them as the most dreary aspect of barrenness ever beheld. No vegetation was to be seen except a few lichens; but penguins, pintados, and sea-leopards, were numerous. The ship was moored in a small cove in Deception Island for several weeks, and an observatory built on the shore, while the boats were etnployed ia the survey. The volcanic force was still active; 150 jets of steam could be seen from the Chanticleers anchorage. Surveying in such latitudes is, as Lieutenant Kendal says, cheerless work. The fogs were so frequent, that for the first ten days we saw neither sun nor star; and it was, withal, so raw and cold, that I do not recollect having suf- fered more at any time in the arctic regions, even at the lowest range of the thermometer. Within the twelve following years are comprised the greatest achievements in antarctic research Messrs. Enderby sent out a brig and cutter, the Tula and Lively, under Captain Biscoe, on a seal- ing voyage, in July, 1830. In the course of De- cember he discovered an island in latitude 58~ 25, longitude 26~ 55, which he describes as terrific, being nothing more than a complete rock, covered with ice, snow, and heavy clouds, so that it was difficult to distinguish one from the other. In January, 1831, he crossed Cooks track of 1773, nod found the field ice in precisely the position where that celebrated explorer had left it; signs of land had been for some time visible, and on the 27th a considerable extent of coast was seen in lat 7 a ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. itude 650 57, longitude 470 20 east. In the night I south, and touched at Hobart Town in a distressed an aurora australis appeared at times rolling, to condition, having lost three officers and thirteen quote Biscoes words, as it were, over our heads men by dysentery. He sailed January 1, 1840, in the form of beautiful columns, then as suddenly his special aim being to approach or reach the changing like the fringe of a curtain, and again magnetic or terrestrial pole. The terrestrial mc- shooting across the hemisphere like a serpent fre- ridian from Hobart Town to the pole coincides in quently appearing not many yards above our heads, a remarkable degree with the magnetic meridian, and decidedly within our atmosphere. It was by and, by steering on the former, DUrville hoped to much the most magnificent phenomenon of time kind arrive at both the poles he was searching for by the that I ever witnessed; and although the vessel was same route. On the 21st he was surrounded by in considerable damtger, running with a sm~rrt breeze,1 numerous ice islands, and saw a lofty line of coast and much beset, the people commld scarcely be kept covered with snow stretching from sooth-west to from looking at the heavens instead of attending to north-west, apparently without limit. With some the course. difficulty a landing was effected, and possession Great efforts were mnade to reach the land, which taken imm the name of France; it was called La lies on the amitareric circle, but the opposition of Terre Ad6lie, after the wife of the discoverer. ice and currents was too powerful to be overcome. Two days afterwards, the vessels were separated The ltealtb of the crew suffered from cold and ex- by a terrific storm ; they, however, weathered posure; and in April, wlmile on the passage to Van through, and met again omi the 28th in an open sea Diemens land, two men died, and the others were I towar(ls the north, from whence they steered a so weak, that, with the exception of the three offi- south-westerly course to complete a series of mag- cers, only one mnamm and a boy were able to do duty. netic observationskeepimmg a look-out for land in Undeterred by these casualties. Biscoe sailed agaimt that direction. 0mm this route a ship ~vas seen, for the south in January, 1832, taking a south- I which afterwards proved to be the Porpoise, one easterly course, which, in the follo~ving month in of tIme American squadron; the vessels passed with- latitude 670 1, longitude 71~ 48 west, brought out comnmnummicating; and in Febrmtary, 1840, D~Ur- him to an island, the westernmost of a chain lying yule returned to Hobart Town. The subsequent off a high main coast, now known as Graham-us I fate of tlmis persevering navigator was truly melan- Land. He landed on tlte 21st February, and took choly; after having escaped all the dangers of a possession in the name of his majesty, William IV. sailors life during thirty years, line was burnt to From this group, sometimes called Biscoes death, with his wife amid son, in the railway train Range, the discoverer touched at the South Shet- betweemi Paris and Veisailles in 1842. lands, where he narrowly escaped shipwreck, and The United States Exploring Expedition, the sailed for St. Catherines, in Brazil, on which route I first timat ever left that country for a scientific pur- the Lively was lost on one of the Falkland Islands. I pose, sailed in Atmgust, 1838. It comprised two His voyage is remarkable as having comprised the I sloops of war, the Vincennes and Peacock, the brig circummiavigation of the soutim pole, and two cruises Porpoise, a store-ship, and two tenders. With ro- ~vithin the ~m1tarctic circle, as well as for the new speet to researches in the antarctic seas, Lieutenant lands which it brought to light. It affords another Wilkes, the commander, was instructed to follow, instructive instainince of what may be accomplished as others had previously done, Weddells track, and by proper skill and courage with cotuparatively afterwards to explore as far as Cooks ne plus ultra, small means, neglecting no opportinmnity of puslming to the south Another sealing expedition, a schooner and cut- as might be compatible with the safety of the yes- ter in charge of Captain Balleny, was sent out by sels. fhe Porpoise and Seagull tender sailed from Messrs. Enderby in July, 1838. This was also Orange Harbor, on the west of Terra del Fuego, successful in discovering land, a group of five isl- in February, 1839, for the first southern cruise, and ands, now called Balleny Isles, omme of which rises explored mt the vicinity of the South Shetlands. witlt a splendid peak 15,000 feet above the sea-lev- I The Peacock and Flying-Fish followed, and pene- el. The vessels encountered mucit severe weather; trated as far as 70 degrees, when the approach of and, on the 24t1t March, at midminight, during the re- winter compelled their return. Off Cape Horn the turn voyage, time cutter burned a blue light, which Seagull separated from her consort, and was never was answered from the schooner; but the heavy afterwards heard of. The second cruise was made sea prevented commummication. 1he next morning from Sydney with four of the ships; they sailed the little cutter was nowhere to be seemi: site mad December 29, two days before DUrville. Lieu- perished with all her crew; amid it was ocint without tenant Wilkes chose the meridian of Macquarie much difficulty that Balleny saved his vessel from Island, designing, after a long stretch to the south, a similar fate, and reached London in September, to turn westward, and beat round the circle to En- 1839. derby Land, and make a dash towards the pole In 1837, the French government sent out an ex- whenever practicable. On the 16th January, in pedition rtnder Rear-Ad umiral DUrville, amt eminent latitude 66 degrees, he landed on what was taken explorer, who had already made three voyages for an island, but which subsequent researches gave round the world. Two corvettes, the Astrolabe and reason to suppose was a floatumtg umass of ice. To ~ sailed from Toulomi, and, by the end of the make the exploration as effective as possible, the year, had followed Weddells track in the antarctic ships separated. Ihey were, however, so ill seas until they were stopped by the ice between adapted for navigation among ice, that although the 63d and 64th parallels. On three occasions an great exertions were used to widen the search, one entrance was forced into it, hut they were driven after another they were compelled to abandon the back each time, and forced to return. Louis enterprise, after having incurred extreme distress Philippes Land, however, was discovered, and and danger. The Vincennes was the last to re- some positions of the shores beyond Brandsfleld turn; on time 30th January, Lieutenant Wilkes en- Straits determined. After a lengthened cruise in tered a bay,which he named Piners Bay, in lati- Polynesia and the Indian Archipelago, DUrville tude 66~ 45, and designated the country as the resolved to make another attempt to get to the antarctic continent. The accumulations of floating ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. 9 ice prevented his reaching the shore, and he was line or curve may he traced all round the glohe, on then unaware that this was the Ad6lie Land of which the dipping-needle remains l)erfectly hon- DUrville. The French admiral had landed there zontal this, through the greater part of its course, a week previously, and taken possession. The varies but slightly from a great circle whose plane American squadron returned to the United States is inclined about 12 degrees from the terrestrial in June, 1842. equator; and, by analogy, it has been called the magnetic equator. Then, as is commonly known, The last and most memorable voyage to the the compassneedle takes a direction in (lifferent 8Outh is that by Captain (now Sir James) Ross, latitudes at times more or less oblique to the ceo- whose labors itt arctic research will be well re- graphical meridian. The vertical plane hereby membered. Its scientific results were highly mi- produced is called the magnetic meridian, and the portant, and it settled the question of a lena aus- angle which it forms with the terrestrial meridian tralis; such a land may now find a place in maps; ott atmy part of the earth is termed the declination the dreams of theorists are verified. This voyage or variation of the tteedle. TIme amoumit is not con more immediately originated in a recommetidation stamint in all seasomins for the same place; and, in the by the British Association, in 1838, a period when course of a single day, sli4mt l)eriodieal changes the desirability of establishing the phenomena of occur, dependent apparently on the suns height terrestrial magnetistit was strongly felt. Observa- above the horizon. But the absolute changes take tories were to he erected in different latittides and place more slowly, at intervals of years; and minavi- in different zones of the earth, and much importance gators generally follow tIme compass, as though the was attached to the fillimig up of the deficiencies (inf local declination were always the same, correctmng our knowledge of terrestrial nma~netismn in the it, however, occasionally by astronomical observa- high southern latitudes between the meridiamis of tiomi. By this following (if tIme compass the lines New Holland amind Cape Horn. The laws which might be laid down; near the magmietie eqm~ator regutlated the movement of the needle ~vere sup- they are almost liarallel or perpendicular to it, but posed to be extremely simple, operating in cycles, departimug from it, they assume a progressive eon- depemudent on climnatic or other and tinknown causes. tommr or flexion, all finally converging and termi- ~i7he simplicity, hinuwever, was apparent omily; on muating in the two points where the dipping-needle investigation, the effects proved to be most commiplex, becomes vertical. The third element ~if magnetic and the causes altogether unapproachable. For- force is the law of its imutensity at different places; merly, the variatiomi alone was tIme plmenomnenon this is indicated by oscillatiomus, minure or less rapid, which received attemution; now the dip and in- of the respective tmeedles, as measures of density tensity were to be taken accoutit of; and this, by a are judged of by vibrations (if a petudmulum. Expe- little contrivance, could be done at sea almost as rience teaches that the intensity increases generally well as on land. The inconstant nature of the from the equator to the poles; but the progress of phemmomena had also to be considered, their rela- time increase, whether of dip or variation, is not tions to each other, their times and changes, and fegularinequalities appear; effects have been other incidentsall were essential in researches noted in some localities which have not been wit- into the cause and effect of magnetism. nessed in others. Fromn tunis fact, the existence of According to the report, so little was known of a principal magnetic force attaching as a result to the magnetic limmes of direction in the antarctic seas, the whole mass of the globe has been inferred, that the true position of the south magnetic pole whose general effects are umomlified locally by could scarcely evemi be conjectumred fromo the data secondary magnetic forces, havimug their centres of already known ; and it would be of high ininpor- action distributed at slight depths below the surface tanee to deterumine whether the magnetic phetiomena of the earth, mu portions or districts probably affect- observed dorimig the voyage were simultaneous with ed by perturbations of the interior equilibrium. similar plmemmomena in Europe or other parts of the Two vessels were fitted out, the Erbus of 350 world. On these poimits Sir James Ross itistruc- tons, amid the Terror; the latter havitig been tions were express and explicit; he was to notice repaired after rettirning from Backs hazardous in the South Atlantic the poimmt where he crossed voyage to~vards Repulse Bay. Ross and Crozier the curve or line of least magnetic imitemisity ; to were the commanders, with sixty-fotir persons ascertain the depth of the ocean whenever practica- in each ship. They left Chatham initi the 16th ble, amid the temperature and specific gravity of the Septeumber, 1839, and on time 5th of October were water at different distances below time smirface; time off the Lizard, the last point of England which they stremigub and direction of currents and tides; pen- ~re to see for several years. It is not easy, odical truovenment of the barometer; comminparative says Sir J. Ross, to describe time joy and light- brighomess of stars; refraction, both terrestrial and heartedness we all felt as we passed the entrammee celestial; and to swimig pendulums in special locahi- of the Channel, bounding befiinre a favorable breeze ties, whereby to iirove time figmmre of time earth. over the blue waves of the ocean, fairly enibarked After refitting at Van Diemens Lamid, he was to in the emiterpnise we had all so long desired to corn- proceed direct to the soutlinwarul, in order to de- tnence.~ Scientific labors were immoediately or- teromine mIme position of the magnetic pole and evemi ganized and carried out; time measured height of to attain to it if possible, which it is hoped will be waves in the Bay of Biscay was 36 feet ; at one (if the remarkable and creditable results of this Madeira the height of the mountain was deternuitmed; expeditiomi, one calculated to engross the atten- gmagtietic observations were takemm, and repeated tion of the scientific men of all Europe. afterwards at the Cape de Verds. On Novemnmber It mnay, perhaps, assist towards a just apprecia- 20, the hourly register of the hmeighit of the tion of the results of this comprehensive voyage, to barometer, amid the temperature of time air and sur- state briefly the three peculiarities of mumagmmetic face of the oceami, was substituted for the thuree- phenomemma. There is witimin the polar circle of hourly observations hitherto recorded, chiefly for each hemisphere a point at which the dippitmg- time purpose of umarking the progress of baronmetnic meedle points straight downwardsthis is time mag- depression in approaching, amid reascensiomm in ~etic pole. Midway between these two points, a receding from, the equator; a phenomenomu repre-. ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. sented as being of the greatest and most universal influence, as it is, in fact, no other than a direct measure of the moving force by which the great currents of the trade-winds are produced so that the measure of its amount, and the laws of its geo- graphical distribution, lie at the root of the theory of these winds. In the course of the following month another interesting fact was obscrvedthe line of no dip. We had watched, writes the captain, the progressive diminution of the dip of the needle; and steering a course as nearly south as the wind permitted, in order to cross the line of no dip at right angles, we found the change so rapid, as to be ascertained with great precision; so much so, that the signal for our being on the exact point of no dip, where the needles, being equally poised between the northern and southern magnetic sys- tems, assumed a perfectly horizontal position, was being hoisted from both ships at the same instant of time. Nothing could be inure satisfactory than the perfect accordance of our observations in a determination of so much importance; nor could it fail to he of more than ordinary interest to me to witness the needle thus affected; having some years previously, when at the north magnetic pole, seen it in a directly vertical position ; nor was it unnatural, when we saw the south pole of the needle beginning to point below the horizon, to in- dulge the hope that ere long we might be permitted again to see it in a similar position at the south magnetic pole of the earth. Shortly afterwards, the curve of least magnetic intensity was crossed this point is found on each meridian of the earth; in sailing from the equator towards each pole, there is a point where the influence, having gradually increased from nil, becomes most perceptible these points form a curve round the world, and, being variahle, their exact determination hccomes of much importance to science. After touching at the Cape, and landing a party with materials and instruments for the establish- ment of a magnetic observatory, as had previously been done at St. Helena, the ships proceeded to Kerguelens Island, in approaching which they encountered the tempestuous weather so character- istic of high southerly latitudes. They remained here until the 20th July, pursuing diligently their magnetical, meteorological, geological, botanical, and other researches. Abundance of coal was found, a fact which in these days of ocean steam navigation may perhaps be turned to good account. The plants are much less numerous than in higher latitudes in the north ; Parry met with sixty-seven species at Melville Island, and forty-five have been discovered at Spitzbergen, while Kerguelen Island produces but eighteen. Among these there is one which deserves especial mentionthe Kerguelen cabbage, first noticed during Cooks stay at the island. Captain Ross remarks To a crew long confined to salt provision, or indeed to human beings under any circumstances, this is a most important ve~eable, for it possesses all the es- sentially good qualities of its English namesake, while, from its containing a great abundance of essential oil, it never produces heartburn, or any of those disagreeable sensations which our pot- herbs are apt to do. It abounds near the sea, and ascends the hills to their summits. The leaves form heads of the size of a good cabbage lettuce, generally terminating an ascending or prostrate stalk, and the spike of flowers, borne on a leafy stein, riacs from below the head, and is often two feet high. The root tastes like horse-radish, and the young leaves or hearts resemble in flavor coarse mustard and cress. For 130 days our crews required no fresh vegetable but this, xvhich was for nine weeks regularly served out with the salt beef or pork, during which time there was no sickness on hoard. Out of the sixty-eight days that the vessels lay in Christmas Harbor, forty-five were so windy, with such violent gusts, as frequently to blow them over on their beam-ends ; and any of the party who happened to be on shore on such occasions were obliged to lie down, to avoid being blown into the sea; and rain or snow fell every day but three. Severe gales attended them in their way to Van Diemens Land, where, at Hobart Town, a third party was landed with instruments for a magnetic observatory. While lying here, Sir J. Ross heard of the French and American exploring expeditions, both of which had made discoveries to the south as far as67 degrees of latitude; and, to avoid entering on the scene of his labors by the same track, he departed from his original intention, and chose the meridian of 170 degrees east, being that on which Balleny had sailed up to 69 degrees. On November 12, 1840, the summer season of that side of the world, the vessels having been fully refitted, were fouiid to be more efficient than when they left England, and the party sailed in search of new lands in unknown seas. They touched at the Auckland Islands, and remained, until Decem.. her 17, occupied with magnetic observations. On leaving this anchorage, every heart beat high with proud expectations of future success, for now the real voyage was begun. Christmas-day, which, though only four days after the midsummer day of those latitudes, was cold, wet, and snowy; it was, however, celebrated in the old English style. On the 27th the first icebergs were seen, in lati- tude 63~ 20 south. Unlike the icebergs of the arctic seas, they presented very little variety of form, but were generally of large size, and very solid appearance; bounded by perpendicular clifih on all sides, their tabular summits varied from 120 to 180 feet in height, and several of them more than two miles in circumference. Three days afterwards, they crossed the track of the Russian navigator, Belliughausen, in latitude 64~ 38 south, longitude 1730 10 east; soundings taken here gave a depth of 1560 fathoms. The 1st of January, 1841, fouiid them on the outskirts of the pack or belt of ice which more or less densely engirdles the antarctic regions, as though nature here inter- posed the storm rampant of her sanctuary TIme insuperabte houndary, raised to guard Her mysteries froIn the eye of nian profane. TIme good cheer of New Years Day was not forgotten, and a suit of warm clothing was served out gratis to every one of the crews. On the 5th they beat into the main pack, and when fairly entered, found it lighter and more open than it appeared from the outside. Penguins, albatrosses, petrels, and seals, crowded about the vessels, and followed them in their winding course among the hummocks and floes. They got through the pack, which was here 200 miles wide, in four days; and on the 10thone of those singular phenomena peculiar to the frozen latitudes not a particle of ice could be seen in any direction from the mast- head. The dip was 85 degrees, an amount which marked their proximity to the magnetic pole, to which the ships were now directly steered. But 10 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. on the next morning land, with lofty mountains, was seen ahead ; one of these, 10,000 feet high, was named Mount Sabine; and later in the same day the latitude was found to he 710 15, the highest point reached by Cook in 1774. It was, observes Ross, a beautifully clear evening, and we had a most enchanting view of the two magnificent ranges of mountains, whose lofty peaks, perfectly covered with eternal snow, rose to elevations vary- ing from seven to ten thousand feet above the level of the ocean. The glaciers that filled their inter- vening valleys, and which descended from near the mountain summits, projected in many places several miles into the sea, and terminated in lofty perpen- dicular cliffs. In a few places the rocks broke through their icy covering, by which alone we could be assured that land formed the nucleus of this, to appearance, enormous iceberg. It need hardly he said that the various heights and head- lands within view were duly named after eminent individuals in England. On the 12th, advantage was taken of fine weather to effect a landing; when about three miles from the shore, a boat put off from each ship with the captains and several of the officers. We found, says Sir J. Ross, the shores of the mainland completely covered with ice projecting into the sea, and the heavy surf along its edge forbade any attempt to land upon it; a strong tide carried us rapidly along between this ice-bound coast and the islands amongst heavy masses of ice, so that our situation was for some time most criti- cal; for all the exertions our people could use were insufficient to stem the tide. But taking advantage of a narrow opening that appeared in the ice, the boats were pushed through it, and we got into an eddy under the lee of the largest of the islands, and landed on a beach of large loose stones and stranded masses of ice. The ~veather had now put on a most threatening appearance, the breeze was fresh- ening fast, and the anxious circumstances under which we were placed, together with the recall flag flying at the ships mast-head, which I had ordered Lieutenant Bird to hoist, if necessary, compelled us to hasten our operations. The ceremony of taking possession of these new- ly-discovered lands in the name of our most gracious sovereign, Queen Victoria, was immediately pro- ceeded with ; and on planting the flag of our country amidst the hearty cheers of our party, we drank to the health, long life and happiness of her Majesty and his Royal Highness Prince Albert. The island was named Possession Island. It is situated in latitude 71~ 56 and longitude 171~ 7 east, composed entirely of igneous rocks, and only accessible on its western side. We saw not the smallest appearance of vegetation, but inconceivable myriads of penguins completely and densely cov- ered the whole surface of the island, along the ledges of the precipices, and even to the summits of the hills, attacking us vigorously as we waded through their ranks, and pecking at us with their sharp beaks, disputing possession ; which, together with their loud, coarse notes, and the insupportable stench from the deep bed of guano, which had been forming for ages, and which may at some period be valuable to the agriculturists of our Australian colonies, made us glad to get away again, after having loaded our boats with geological specimens and pengtiins * * * After a long and heavy pull, we regained our ships only so short a time before so thick a fog came on, with a strong northerly breeze, that to have been a few minutes later would have rendered our return sible. to the ships impos.. A heavy gale came on, but in the rolling sea which it produced, indications were gained of a large space of open water to windward, in the direction most desired by the explorers. While beat- ing about, to prevent losing ground, other portions of land were seen; and, on the 17th, when the weather cleared, nioutitain ranges were discovered at a distance of 100 miles, so great is the refractive power of the atmosphere in icy regions. On the 21st, the dip was 87~ 39, denoting a considerable approach towards the magnetic pole ; and some vexation was felt that the barrier of land ice stood in the way of a direct course to the interesting spot; the alternative was, to beat up and seek a westerly route. On one occasion, while thus en- gaged, it was, to quote the narrative, the most beautiful night we had seen in these latitudes, the sky perfectly clear and serene. At midnight, when the suit was skimming along the southern horizon at an altitude of abotit 2 degrees, the sky overhead was remarked to be of a most intense indigo blue, becoming paler in proportion to the distance from the zenith. The 22d was a notable day; the ships were in latitude 740 20, higher than had ever been reached by any former naviga- tor; an event which naturally called forth much rejoicing. The dip had increased to 88~ 10 on the 25th, leaving the presumption that the pole was not more than about 200 miles distant. Two days later, formal possession was again taken of an island, to which the name of Franklin Island was given, in latitude 760 8 south, longitude 1680 12 east. It is about twelve miles long and six broad, devoid of all appearance of vegetation ; even the hardy mosses and lichens were absent, from which, and other instances, Sir J. Ross considers that the vegetable kingdom has no representative in antarctic lands. It is the very sublimity of bar- renness; and who, on reading the description, will not recall the lines But hereabove, around, below, On mountain or in glen, Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, Nor aught of vegetative power, The weary eye may ken. For all is rocks at random thrown, Black waves, hare crags, and banks of stone, As if were here denied The summer sun, the springs sweet dew, That clothe with many a varied hue The bleakest mountain-side! Early on the 28th, the vessels stood towards the high land seen the day before; it proved to be a tnountain 12,400 feet of elevation above the level of the sea, emitting flame and smoke in great profusion; at first the smoke appeared like snow- drift, but as we drew nearer, its true character became manifest. The discovery of an active volcano in so high a southern latitude cannot but be esteemed a cir- cumstance of high geological importance and in- terest, and contribute to throw some further light on the physical construction of our globe. I named it Mount Erebus; and an extinct volcano to the eastward, little inferior in height, being by meas- urement 10,900 feet high, was named Mount Terror. Later in the same day the latitude was found to be 760 6, and the vessels were to the southward of the magnetic pole, the approach to which was impeded by land ice. Standing in for the land under all sail, we perceived a low white line 11 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. extending from its eastern extreme point as far as the eye could discern to the east~vard. It pre- 8ented an extraordinary appearance, gradually in- creasing in height as we got nearer to it, and proving at length to be a perpendicular cliff of ice, between 150 and 200 feet above the level of the sea, perfectly flat and level at the top, and without any fissures or promontories on its even seaward face. Far in the rear a range of mountains was seen, which were named the Parry Mountains, in honor of the eminent arctic explorer. They are the most southerly land as yet known on the globe. The sight of this barrier was a great disappoint- ment to all on board, for they had anticipated being able to push their researches far beyond the 80th degree; but, as Sir J. Ross observes, they might, with equal chance of success, try to sail through the cliffs of Dover as penetrate such a mass. They coasted along this icy wall to the eastward antI on the 2d February had increased the latitude to 78~ 4, the highest })oint ever reached ; on the 9th they stood closer in, to a bay where the cliff, being low, enabled them to look down upon it from the mast-head. It appeared to be quite smooth, and conveyed to the mind the idea of an immense plain of frosted silver; gigantic icicles depended from every projecting point of its perpen- dicular face. Although in a season answering to the month of August in England, the tempera- ture was not hi~her than 12 degrees, and did not rise above 14 degrees at noon; and so much young ice was formed during the nights, as to threaten a sudden stoppage to the exploration, which, how- ever, was continued until the 13th, in hopes of coming to the end of the icy barrier, or to find some passage through it to the southward. But these expectations were not to be realized. After sailing along the frozen cliff for 450 miles, the vessels bore up to the westward, to make another attempt to reach the magnetic pole before the season finally closed. Unlike the ber0s of the northern regions, which are dismembered by the action of the sea, this extraordinary barrier of probably more than 1000 feet in thickness, crushes the undulations of the waves, and disregards their violence; it is a mighty and wonderful object, far beyond anything we could have thought or conceived. By the 17th it became apparent that the endeavor was useless; a secure harbor was then sought for, in ~vhiTh the vessels might winter, and from which parties could be sent overland in the spring to visit the burning mountain, whose frequent eruptions afforded a magnificent spectacle, and to discover the great centre of toagnetic attraction. But, alter a hard struo~4e to reach an island through sixteen miles of intervening land ice _ this attempt was also abandoned, riot without much regret on the part of the commander, who had indulged die hope iif planting the British flag on the southern magnetic pole as he fdrmerly had tin the northern. Still there was much satisfaction iii knowing that they had penetrated further towards the south than any oilier explorers, however adventurous, and that they had traced the coast of a great unknown continent from the 70th to the 79th degree of latitude. They were then in latitude 7G~ 12 south, longitude 164~ east, the dip 88~ 40, aiid were therefore only lOt) miles frorn the [magnetic] pole. Omi the 25th, as Ross relates, we had a good view of the coast. The whole of the land being perfectly free from cloud or haze, the lofty raiye of moulitains appeared projected upon the clear sky beyond them beautifully defined; aitd although of a spotless white, without the smallest patch of ex- posed rock throughout its whole extent to relieve it, yet the irregularities of the sitrface, the mummer- 005 conical pr(ituberances and inferior eminences, and the deeply-marked valleys, occasioned many varieties of light and shade, that destroyed the moo- notorious glare of a perfectly tvliite surface, but to which it is so very difficult to give expression either by the pencil or description. It was a nmost interesting scene to us, as it was truly the best view we had of time northern shore and mountains of Victoria Land, amid (if which the western ex- tremity was by tin means the least retnarkable feat- ure. The nights were lengthening; stars became visible; everything betokenied the rapid approach (if winter. Ross, however, determined oii ascer- taining whether any coimnectiomi existed between tIme new-fouimd contiiient aiid the Balleny Isles, and bore up for this purpose. Oii the eveiiing of the 28th, the party had their last sight of Victoria Land, arid time first of tIme aurora austrahis, ~~hich differs from the northern lights in the greater length of time vertical beanis, amid tIme frequency and suddenness of its appearances arid disappearaimees more like flashes (if light: it was agaimm also per- fectly colorless, had comisiderable lateral flitting motion, and fornied an irregular arch about 30 degrees high, whose centre bore west. On, tAme 2d March lammd was seen which had time appearance of two islands; if not part of the group discovered by Balleny in 1831, it was considered they might eventually prove to be moumitains. Here Sir J. Ross takes some pains to distinguish between the Enighish, French, and American ex- ploratinims, and to simow the propriety of not layimug down a chmain (if islanids as the coast of a coririmment. He believes that the priority of discovery between the meridians of 47 degrees amid 163 degrees of east longitude belongs to tIme English. On the 4th March the ships recrossed time antarctic circle, hav- ing been to the southiward (if it fir sizny-thmree days; arid until tIme 7th the party were searching fur the land which Lieutenant Wilkes thought he hmad dis- covered; hut soimmidimigs were taken iii 600 fathmonis, in the very centre of time position assigmied to time land on the chart, and Ross is of opiniomi that the American conimander was deceived by ice-islands or fog-banks. On the last-memimionmed day they were for several hours in a position of extremne danger: it fell calm, arid under time dead set of the waves the ships were slowly drifted down to a range nif huge icebergs, against which the sea broke with appalling violence. Every eye was tramusfixed whim thme trenmemidous spectacle, arid de- structioni appeared inevitable: thus were they driven for eight hours, umitil withimi half a mile of time bergs, whemi a gentle air stirred, tIme hmeavy ships yielded slowly to its influemice; it freshened to a breeze, amid before dark, to time heart-felt thamikfnml- ness of alI, thicy were far from daiiger. On time OtIm April they anchored once more at Hobart 1own, all hamids well, after an absence of five months. In July of the same year, 1841, the ships sailed agai mm fir a second voyage to time southward: after touching at New Zealand, they took an easterly course, and having thereby gained twelve hours, it became necessary, on crossimig the 180th degree, and emuterinig on west longitude, to lose a day, so as to niake the date correspomid with that in Eng- land. We had, therefore, says Captain Ross, 12 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. two Thursdays and two 25th days of November in succession; so that, after crossing the meridian, and having made the alteration of a day, instead of being twelve hours in advance, we became so much in arrear of the time in England, ~vhich would gradually diminish as we pursued our easterly course, untii on our return we should find them in exact accordance. On the 4th December, sound- in~s were taken in 1050 fathoms; the temperature of the water at that depth was 40 degreesthirteen degrees lower than at. the surfase. A current was found setting to the south-east at the ratc of fifteen miles a day; a similar stream has been noticed at Kerguelen Island, and there is reason to believe that it circulates continually round the Antarctic Ocean in a stream about 10 degrees wide on either side of the fiftieth l)arallel of latitude. A few days afterwards a thick fog afforded opportunity of test- ing the relative value of sound-signals, and the effects were as extraordinary as those observed in the north. The bell was most distinct, and the gong very little inferior, when the musket was scarcely audible; but I was much surprised, r~- marks the captain, on hailing through a speak- ing trumpet, to receive an immediate and so clear an answer from the officer of the watch of the Terror, that we might have carried on a conversa- tion. On the 16th, having reached the meridian of 1460 43 west, the ships heads were directed to the south, this being the most favorable line for observations on the magnetic intensity, and the one on which land was most likely to be met xvith. Having passed the outskirts of the pack, the main body was entered on the 19th, through which their progress was slow and toilsome; the party, how- ever, managed to spend Christmas-day cheerfully, notwithstanding their imprisonment. Sometimes they ~vere obliged to moor the vessels on either side of a large flue, and drift with it, to prevent collision. It seldom happened that a piece ex- ceeding a quarter of a mile in circumference was met with, thus presenting a striking difference of character in the pack of the antarctic from that of the arctic sea, where floes of several miles in diameter are of common occurrence, and sometimes fields, as they are termed, whose boundary is beyond the reach of vision from a ships mast-head. The cause of this is explained by the circumstance of the ice in the southern regions being so moch more exposed to violent agitations of the ocean, whereas the northern sea is one of comparative tranquillity. The antarctic circle was crossed on the 1st day of 1842, the anniversary of the crossing on the former voyage, but 1400 miles more to the xvest. Here the ice was met with at a lower latitude, and during several days ground was lost by a current drifting the ships to the northwards. While beset, the crews were frequently employed in catching seals, or collecting such specimens of natural hii~- tori as came in their way, many of which are now to be seen in the British Museum. What the laud lacks in vegetable life, is made up by the teeming and varied animal life in the ocean; from the mi- nute infosoria, in inconceivable myriads, up to the huge whale and sea-elephant, multitudinous grada- tions exist, the grand circle of existence ever main- tained by the lesser serving as food for the larger. The penguins were found extremely difficult to kill when required to be preserved unmutilated; at last prussic acid was resorted to, and a table-spoonful of this destroyed thorn in less than a iIiinute. Thus it continued until the 19th, alternately hunt- 13 ing, drifting, haulin~ making fast, hawscrs snap- piiig, and efforts to stem the opposing current. Ott this day, whAle the ships were endeavoring to keep company by signals during a thick fog, a gale came (in from the north the sea, as Sir J. Ross de- scribes, quickly rising to a fearful height, break- Pig over the loftiest ber,,s, we were unable any longer to hold our ground, hut were driveii into the heavy pack uiider our lee. Soon after midnight, our ships were involved in an ocean of rolling fragments of ice, hard as floating rocks of granite, which were dashed agaiiist them by the wavcs t ith so much violence, that their masts quivere(l as if they would fall at every successive blow ; and the destruction of the ships seenied inevitable from the tremeiidous shocks they received. By backing and filling the sails, we endeavored to avoid collision with the larger masses; but this was not always possible. In the early part of the storm the rudder (if the Erchus was so niuch daniaged as to 1)0 no longer (if any use; amid about tIme same tinie I was informed by signal that the Terrors was completely destroyed, and miearly torn away from the stern- post. We had hoped that, as we drifted deeper into the pack, we should get beyond the reach of the tempest; but in this we were mistaken. Hour passed away after hour without the least mitigation of the awful circumstances iii which ~ve were placed. Indeed, there seemed to be but little probability of our ships holding together much lomiger, 51) frequent and violemit were the shocks they sustained. The loud crashing noise of the straining and working of the timbers and decks, as she was driven against some of the heavier pieces, which all the activity and exertions of our peoplo could n(it prevent, was sufficient to fill the stoutest heartthat was not supported by trust in him ~~ho controls all eventswith dismay ; amid I shmumild commit an act of injustice to niy compammionsif I did not express my admiration of their conduct on this trying occasion, throughout a period of twenty- eight hours, during any one of which there ap- pearenl to be very little hope that we should live to see another: thac coolness, steady (obedicioce, and untiring exertions of eacht imidividual were every way worthy of British seamen. The storm reached its height at two ~. tot., when the barometer st(iod at 2840 inches, and after that mime begaui to rise. Although we had been forced many miles deeper into the pack, we could not per- ceive that the swell had at all subsided, our ships still rolling and groamming amidst tIme heavy frag toents of crtishing bergs, over ~vhmicho the ocean rolled its mountainous waves, throwing hinge imiass- es omie upon amiothier, and then agaiii burying them deep hienuatha its foameuing waters, dashing and griiiding thuena together with fearful violence. The awful grandeur of such a scene cami micimhmer he im- agimmed muor described, far less can tIme Peehiugs of those who ~vitmmessed it be understood. Each of us secured our hohd, ~vaitimig tIme isstie whim resi~oa tiduim to the will of him who alone could preserve (is, and brimug tins safely through this extreimme damoger watching with breathless amoxiety the efTh~ct of each succeedino co)hhisioomi, and the vibrations (it tIme tot- tering masts, ex[)ecttng every mimoment to see them give way without our having the power to make aim effort to save them. Almlmomighi the force of the wind laad somnewhat abated by four in. M., yet the squalls came on with unabated violence, laying the ship over omi her broadsiole, and threatening to blow tlt~ storm-sails to pieces; fortummately they were quite new, or they 14 never could have withstood such terrific gusts. At this time the Terror was so close to us, that when she rose to the top of oue wave, the Erebus was on the top of that next to leeward of her; the deep chasm between them filled with heavy-rolling masses; and as the ships descended into the hollow between tlae waves, the main-top-sail-yard of each could he seen just level with the crest of the inter- vening wave from the deck of the other. From this some idea may be formed of the height of the waves, as well as of the perilous situation of the ships. The night now began to draw in, and cast its gloomy mantle over the appalling scene, render- ing our condition, if possible, more hopeless and helpless than before; but at midnight the snow, which had been falling thickly for several hours, cleared away as the wind suddenly shifted to the westward, and the swell began to subside; and although the shocks our ships still sustained were such that must have destroyed any ordinary vessel in less than five minutes, yet they were feeble com- pared vith those to which we had been exposed, and our minds became more at ease for their ulti- mate safety. On the morning of the 21st Captain Ross was enabled to visit the Terror in a boat. He found the rudder broken to pieces, and other (lamage; yet so well fortified were the vessels, and their holds so well stowed, that the bottoms remained sound. During the calm which followed, the rudders were hoisted on board, and carpenters and armorers worked busily at their repair; a new one was made for the Terror. While waiting for the ice to open, the latitude was taken, 660 39, the same which they had passed three weeks before, in addi- tion to which the five best weeks of the season had been lost by fighting through the pack. By the 24th both rudders were hung and secured; and, still moored to a floe, the vessels drifted before the wind slowly to tlae southward. They were not far from the spot where Cook had found a clear sea; so different is the situation of the pack in different years. At length, on February 2d, after a struggle of fifty-six days, they cleared the ice, the pack where they crossed it being 1000 miles wide. Passing the outer barrier through a line of threat- ening breakers was not accomplished without much difficulty, and, to the great joy of all on board, the vessels were once more in open water. On the 20th, although not more than thirty miles to east of the poinCfrom which they turned back in the former year, no ice was visible; but the wind blowing from the south over the accumulated ice in that (lirection was piercing coldso much so, that a small fish washed against the ice accumulated on the Terrors bow yes at once frozen fast. On the 23d, thee were off the great icy barrier in latitude 78~ 9 30 south, longitude 161~ 27 west; and, from its being comparatively low, they hoped to get round its eastern end, but soon saw it trending to the northwards. Young ice now funned so rapidly, that they were obliged to retreat, the result of this voyage being the attainment of a somewhat higher latitude than in the previous year, and an examinat1oo of the barrier 10 degrees more to the east. The vessels recrossed the antarctic circle on March 6th, after passing sixty-four days within it, and bore up for the Falkland Islands. A week later, when all further danger from the ice was considered to be at an end, a chain of bergs was seen, and preparations were made to lie to. Just at this moment, writes Sir J. Ross, the Terror was observed running down upon us, under her ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. topsails and foresail; and as it was impossible for her to clear both the berg and tlae Erebus, collision was inevitable. We instantly hove all aback to diminish the violence of the shock; but the con- cussion, when she struck us, was such as to throw almost every one off his feet ; our bowsprit, fore- topmast, and other smaller spars, were carried away; and the ships hanging together, entangled by their rigging, and dashing a~ainst eacla other with fearful violence, were falling down upon the weather-face of the lofty berg under our lee, against which the waves were breaking and foaming to near the summit of its perpendicular cliffs. Some- tunes the Terror rose high above us, almost expos- ing her keel to view, and again descended as we in our turn rose to the top of the wave, threatening to bury her beneath us; whilst the crashing of the breaking upper works and boats increased the horror of the scene. Providentially the vessels gradually forged past cccli other, and separated before we drifted down among the foaming break- ers; and we had the gratification of seeing our consort clear tlae end of the berg, and of feeling that she was safe. But she left us completely dis- abled; the wreck of the spars so encumbered th~ lower yards, that we were unable to make sail so as to get headway on the ship; nor had we room to wear round, being by this time so close to the berg, that the waves, when they struck against it, threw back their sprays into the ship. The only way left to us to extricate ourselves from this awful and appalling situation, was by resorting to tWa hazardous expedient of a stern board, which nothing could justify during such a gale, and with so high a sea running, but to avert the danger which every moment threatened us of being dashed to pieces. The heavy rolling of the vessel, and the probability of the masts giving way each time the lower yard- arms struck against the cliffs, which were towering high above our mast-heads, rendered it a service of extreme danger to loose the mainsail ; but no sooner was the order given, than the daring spirit of the British seaman manifested itselfthe men ran up the rigging with as much alacrity as on any ordinary occasion: and although more than once driven off the yard, they, after a short time, suc- ceeded in loosing the sail. Amidst the roar of the wind and sea, it was difficult both to hear nod to execute the orders that were given, so that it was three quarters of an hour before we could get the yards braced by, and the maintack hauled omi board sharp abackan expedient that perhaps had never before been resorted to by seamen in such weather; but it had the desired effect; the ship gathered steinway, plunging her stern into the sea, washing away the gig arid quarter-boats, and with her lower yard-arms scraping the rugged face of the berg- we in a few minutes reached its western termina- tion; the undertow, as it is called, or the re- action of the water from the vertical cliffs alone preventinrr us being driven to atoms against it. No sooner had we cleared it, than another was seen directly astern of us, against which we were run- ning; arid the difficulty now was to get the ships head turned round, and pointed fairly through the two bergs, the breadth of the intervening space not exceeding three times her own breadth. This, however, we happily accomplished; and in a few minutes after getting before the wind, she dashed through the narrow channel, between two perpen- dicular walls of ice, and the foaming breakers which stretched across it, and the next moment we were in smooth water under its lee. 15 ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. One of the objects of this cruise was to visit, if repair. Astronomical and magnetic observatories possible, the focus of greater magnetic intensity as were erected on shore, and a regular system of laid down in theory; the spot was reached on the readings taken ; hunting-parties were sent out to 18th March, in latitude 60~ south, longitude 1250 kill wild cattle and birds, and all hands regaled for west; and from the observations then taken, Sir J. a time on fresh beef. They sailed again on Sep-. Ross inclines to the belief that it will be found in tember 4, fur Martins Cove, Hermite Island, to a position not fain removed from the south magnetic conduct a series of magnetic experiments. On the pole. After this interesting operation, the vessels 19th Cape Horn was in sight, on which Sir J. hore up for Cape Horn, running more than 150 Ross remarks The poetical descriptions that miles daily before the strong westerly gales. They former navigators have given of this celebrated and were off the Diego Ramirex rocks, xvhen one of the dreaded promontory occasioned us to feel a degree quartermasters fell from the mainyard into the sea. of disappointment when we first saw it; for The life-buoy being instantly let go, he swam to although, it stands prominently forward, a bold, and got upon it with apparent ease, so that, to almost perpendicular headland, in whose outline it pursue the narrative, we now considered him safe. requires but little imaginative power to detect the Although there was too high a sea running for any resemblance of a sleeping lion, facing and braving boat to live, yet Mr. Oakley and Mr. Abernethy, the southern tempests, yet it is part only of a with their accustomed boldness and humanity, were small island; and its elevation, not exceeding 500 in one of the cutters ready to make the attempt. I or 600 feet, conveys to the mind nothing of gran- was obliged to order them out of the boat, for the deur. But the day was beautifully fine, so that it sea was at this time breaking over the ship in such is probable we saw this cape of terror and tempests a mariner as to make it evident that the cutter would under some disadvantage. We passed it at time have instantly filled, whilst, by making a short tack, distance of about a mile and a half, which was as we could fetch to windward of the buoy, and pick near as we could approach it with prudence, by him up without any difficulty. We therefore made reason of the dangerous rocks which lie off to time all sail on time ship, and stood towards him ; but east and ~vest., and whose black points were ren- just as we got within 200 yards, the wind headed, dered conspicuous by the white foam of the and obliged us to pass to leeward, so near, how- breakers, amongst which numerous seals were ever, as to assure us of being able to fetch well to sporting. There was sonic snow on the summit windward after a short board. He was seated of the cape, and its sides were clothed with a firmly on the buoy, with his arm round the pole, brownish-colored vegetation; beyond it, the shores hut had not lashed himself to it with the cords pro- of the island consisted of black vertical cliffs. vided for that purpose, probably from being stunned While lying in Martins Cove, hundreds of young or stupefied by striking against the ships side as trees were collected, to be transplanted in Falkiand he fell overboard. In a quarter of an hour we Islands, which were totally devoid of arborescent again stood to~vards him, with the buoy broad upon vegetation. The ships left Berkeley Sound once our lee-bow; but, to our inexpressible grief, our inure on the 17th December for the third voyage to unfortunate shipmate had disappeared from it. We the circumpolar latitudes, taking the meridian of dropped down upon it so exactly, that we could 55 degrees west. On the 28th, the land discovered take hold of it with a boat-hook ; and had he been by DUrville was seen, and the party became able to have held on four or five minutes longer entangled among a group of small low isles, called than he did, his life would have been savedbut the Danger Islets, to the southernmost of which it pleased God to order it otherwise. they gave the name of Darwin. We observed The gloom produced by this melancholy event here, said Ross, a very great number of the was sonmewhat dissipated on the following day by largest sized black whales, so tame that they the sight of a brig, the only vessel except their allowed the ship sometimes almost to touch them own which the explorers had seen for four months. before they would get out of the wayso that any Those alone who have passed long weeks on the number of ships might procure a cargo of oil in a ocean solitudes can appreciate the pleasurable short time. Thus, within ten days after leaving feeling wlmich even a distant view of the presence the Falkland Islands, we had discovered not only of humanity inspires. V/bile in this latitude, new land, but a valuable whale fishery, well worthy several sealed bottles were thrown overboard, to the attention of our enterprising merchaimts, less ascertain the set of the current in the vicinity of than 600 miles from one of our own possessiorms. Cape horn; one of them was afterwards picked imp Several other islands were discovered, on one of near Port Philip, Australia, in September, 1845, which, named Cockburn Island, a landing was on which it has been observed that Pie motion of effected; it presented time usual volcanic appear- the bottle roust have been eastward ; and, assuming ance, but was interesting as affording specimens that it had newly reached the strand when dis- of the most southerly ve~etation yet met with be- covered, it had passed from the vicinity of Cape yond the 60th degree of latitude. Nineteen species Horn to Port Philip, a distance of 9000 miles, in were found, consisting of mosses, liehmeims, and three years and a hmalf. But it could not be sup- alamseven of them being peculiar to the island. posed that its course was exactly straight; and if Among the most remarkable was a magnificent sea- we add a thousand miles for detours, it follows weed, which grows in long flat sheets bordered by a that the current which carried it moved at the rate fringe. Singular as the fact may appear, sunshine of eight miles per (lay. Some of the bottles were is riot congenial to the vegetation of that frozen land; ballasted with differeimt qualities of sanml, so as to time only soil is a stony bank composed of fallen ascertamo as nearly as possible the effect of current fragments from the rocks above, in which the plants as well as of wind ; those which swam deepest it fix their roots and flourish during moist and cloudy was supposed would be the truest indicators of weather; but as soon as the sun appears for a few streams. hours, the scanty moisture is S(i speedily evaporated Time vessels anchored in Berkeley Sound, Falk- that they become crisp and parched, and crumble land Islands, on the 6th April, where active into pieces when an attempt is made to remove measures were at once taken for their effectual them. ANTARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. For some days after this the ships were closely beset, aud exposed to much danger from pressure between the ice and the land. The navigation proved of the most harassing nature ; in latitude 65~ 13, where Weddell had seen a clear sea, they found a dense, impenetrable pack. The antarctic circle was crossed March 1, 1843, and the serious difficulties and delays the party had met with can be jud~cd of from this fact for it was within a day or two of this date that they had crossed it on return- ingfrorn heir two former voyages. Onthe3d sound- ings were teken, and showed no bottom at 4000 fathoms and two (lays later, when in latitude 7j0 30 sonth, longitude 14~ 51 west, no further hope remaining of penetrating successfully to the southward, so late in the season, the ships beads were turned in the direction of the Cape of Good Hope, all parties disappointed at the result of the voyage, SO fruitless in comparison with the two former. In September, the vessels arrived at Woolwich, after having been in commission four years and five mnonths. The iiiteresting physical facts and results brought to light by this voyage have added materially to the resources of science and philosophy. Among the more noteworthy is the discovery that the ocean which envelops our globe is divided into three thermal basinstwo polar, one equatorial. The bottom is occupied by a fluid layer more or less deep, of oiie uniform temperature, 395. On the equator, and in the intertropical regions where the warmth of the sun penetrates sensibly, the tempera- ture of 395 is not reached at a less depth than 1200 fathoms below the surface; oti the parallel of 45 degrees it is found at half this depth ; and at 560 14 it is the same above and below. Thus in the last- mentioned latitude a circular zone exists of constant and uniform temperature. Sir J. Ross crossed it six times in six different longitudes, and always with the seine resultthe approach to it was invari- ably indicated by the thermometer; and he con- siders it as a sort of neutral girdle between the two basins, and as establishing the fact of the actual mean tem[)eratiire of the mass of water, unaffected by the iiiterior heat of the earth. South of the line the surface becomes colder, and in latitude 70 de- grees, the thermometer must b~ sunk 750 fathoms to reach the temperature of 395. This circle mif mean temperature of the southern ocean, as Sir J. Ross observes, is a standard point in nature, which, if determined with very great accuracy, would afford to philosophers of future ages the means of ascertaiiiing if the globe we inhabit shall have undergone any change of tem- perature, and to what amin)unt, during the interval. From this voyage we learn also that the pressure of the atmosphere, at the level of the sea, is not the same in every part of the globe. Barometrical ob- servations show that this pressure increases grad- ually from the equator to about the 30th parallel, from which it as gradually sinks up to the pole, and falls below the mean of the equator; generally stated, we may say th t, sooth of Cape Horn, the mercury stands an iiich lower than in other re ions. This diffi~rence of pressure is assi:,ned as a mechani- cal cause of ocean currents, of which the most pow- erful issue from the south polar seas; or it may be that the greater quantity of fixed ice, or the greater expanse of water in those parts, admits of a more powerful generation and propagation of streams than in the north; and to this cause we may perhaps refer the presence of icebergs 10 degrees lower in the antarctic than i~ the arctic regions. Our knowledge of climatic phenotnena is also enlarged; Sandwich Land, in the sante latitude as the north of Scotland, is always deeply buried in ice and snow, which the summer fails to melt; Yorkshire and South Georgia are about the same parallels, yet the oiily vegetation oh the latter is a few lichens and mosses; while Iceland, which lies 10 degrees nearer to the northern pole, has 870 species of plaiits. 1-Termite Islaiud is the toost south- erly land on which trees grow. There is much similarity between the northern and southern elliptic magnetic curves, as also in their progression or movement of translation. This movement in the antarctic regiumns is generally from east to west, and at the rate of 50 degrees of longitude in 250 years. In the arctic regions it is from west to east; the phenomenon in either case beinug discoverable by the shifting of the points of convergence. The same uiiiforniity does not occur in the isothermals, or lines of equal heat; those in the south, owing dotubtless to the greater extent of ocean, are more nearly coincident with the l)arallels of latitude than those in the north; the principal deviation being where the great polar current pours into the Pacific. Complete as Sir J. Ross voyage was, it did not satisfy the ~vhole demands of magnetic theorists. The sea beyond the 60th parallel, from opposite the Cape of Good Hope to the southern extremity of Australia, had n(ut been visited; and, ~vithout this, the curves of magnetism could not be pru)(luced on the nuaps. In compliance with the desires expressed for the filling up of this space, the Pagoda, a nuer- chant vessel, was selected at the Cape, and placed in charge of Lieutenant Moore, who hind been out in the Terror, assisted by Lieutenauut Clerk. They sailed January 9, 1845, and crossed the antarctic circle on the Sib February, and on the 10th reached their furthest latitude snuoth, 680 10. Nothing oc- curred beyond the ordinary inucideuuts of navieamion among ice; the series of magnetic observations was faithfully regi~stered ; and on April 1, after being eighty-twit days at sea, and a voyage of 7300 miles, the vessel anichuired mi King Georges Sonuid, Aus- tralia. Some phenomena of antarctic storms whuich had been inubserved by Sir J. Ruuss were also observed u)n board the Pagoda. Nothuinug, says the so- cumunt of the vutyage, in the mencuirology of those iuuchement regions is more remarkable than the accurate coinci(lence nuf the depression of the barom- eter, and the increased force of the wind. The numerous, indeed hourly, ubservatiumus made on board the Pagoda, were expressed mi tabular charts, in which this coincidence was beautifully exemplified. In the sticcessiuun of gales we had encountered, it obtained so uniformly, that this instrumnnent was con- fidently relied on as a certain indicator of the com- ing storm. A sudden, rapid fall preceded the ris- tog of the wind; it was lowest juist before the gale reached its utmost height, and rose again as it broke. Those storuas, thuough of extreme violence, never exceeded twelve hours in duration, and invariably blew from tIme south or east. As they subsided, the colomn of mercury rose rapidly, and to a higher elevation than before. Such are the results of explorations c rried on during a period of four centuries; the knowledge has been slowly gathered, but it will now remain a lastin~ testinnony to the triumphs of intellect. Whether the new whale-fishery established at tIm Auckland Islands will lead to further discoveries beyond those already achieved, is a question for the 16 CUSTOMS UNIONS IN GERMANY. From the Examiner, 15 Feb. CUSTOMS UNIONS IN GERMANY, PAST, PRES- ENT, AND TO COME. future to determine. Human enterprise has learned a remedy, and accordingly, some of the small states, many of the secrets of that region of mighty on whom the wei~ht pressed most heavily, finding contrasts, and will doubtless, when opportunity it vain to hope for relief from the General Diet, offers, pursue the investigation. Meantime, the determined to try and do what they could for them- wintry solitudes of the far south will he undisturbed selves. As early as 1826 twelve of the smallest cen- by the presence of man; the penguin and the seal tral states of Germany, not containing in all one will still haunt the desolate shores; the shriek of million souls, entered into a union for a general the petrel and scream of the albatross will mingle customs frontier, a common tariff, and an equal divi- with the dash acid roar of continual storms and the sion of the net revenue arising from the duties on the crash of wave-beaten ice; the towering volcano will entry or transit of foreign goods, according to the shoot aloft its columns of fire high into the gelid proportion of the inhabitants of each state. This air; the hills of snow and ice will grow and spread; was called the Miuel Verein. or Thuringian Cen- frost and flame will do their work, till, in the won- tral Association, and was the first origin of Customs drous cycle of terrestrial change, the polar lands Unions in Germany. shall again share in the abundance and beauty which The success of this experiment was so great in now overspread tile sun-gladdened zones. increasing the amount of custom dues, in diminish- ing the expense of collection, in facilitating trade and intercourse, that it was soon imitated by Ba- varia and Wirtemberg, who, in 1828, formed a union, into which parts of other states were. admitted, in as far they were enclosed within those kin doens. The advantages of this system were too obvious to escape the enlightened aducinistrators of Prussia; and that country now proposed to the German Con- federation the adoption of a general union, ~r which the Prussian tariff should serve as a basis. She was met, however, by opposition on every side. The Prussian tariff system was one of moderate protectionfar too liberal for Austria, who was still deep in the mire of protection in which she was then determined to remain. The states of the north were flourishing under free trade, acid had no desire to sacrifice their commerce to profit Prussian manufacturers; while the states of the south were too jealotes of Prussian power to place themselves in more immediate connection with her. Although repulsed, Prussia did not give up her project ; and, aided by the fears with which the rev- olution of 1830 inspired the German princes, and the necessity they felt for seeking protection and shelter under the strung wing of Prussia, many of them were induced, in 1833, to coiisent to adopt her proposals. Between 1833 and 1836, all the rest of Germany, except Austria and the northern sea- coast states and free towns, Ii, d found themselves obliged to fall in with the Prussian scheme, acid thus was formed that great Customs Union, known as the Prussian Zollverein. The Prussian tariff, with some modifications, was t.aken as the ground-work of that of the new associa- tion. This tariff professes to impose ditties to the amount of from ten to fifteen per cent. on the value of the goods imported ; hut as the duties are levied according to the weight of the article, of course the real per centage must vary immensely oct coarse and fine articles which come tinder the same denoin- ination, hut the relative weight and value of which hear no proportion to each other. The real duty levied is said to vary from ten to one hundred per cent. Changes in the tariff can only be made at the great meetings of the union, and the consent of each in(lividoal state is required for any altera-~ tion. Prussia enjoys only one voice in the Congress in common with the weakest of its members. The union itself cannot be dissolved till the year l854~ unless all the States of Germany should agree iiv common to such measures as would carry out on a large scale the intention expressed in th9 XIXtii article of the Act of the German Confederation. Prussia was not able to carry out this great scheme without considerable pecuniary sacrifice~ on her own part. The division of the sums colle ted at the different custom-houses of the union re IT iS well known that by the XIXth article of the Act of the Germanic Confederation, as estab- lished at the Congress of Vienna in 1815, the sub- ject of a union of all Germany under one law of customs and trade, with one system of ~veights and measures, and one form and standard of currency, was especially marked out for the consideration of the newly-constituted Federative Diet. It is equally ~vell known, that, from the day of its constitution to the day of its extinction on July 12, 1848, the Federal Diet never advanced one step in the pro- posed route; and it is notorious that at the present time the third Committee of the Dresden Gongress are still at loggerheads on this very question. The inconvenience of the old state of things, in which every petty state had its own commercial laws, its own tariff, its own customs officers and frontier guards, its peculiar weights and measures, and its own coinage, can hardly be folly appreciated by any but such as may have travelled through Germany some thirty years ago; albeit, even now, sufficient is still left to give some faint notion of what it then was. And if this inconvenience was so severely felt by the traveller, what most it have been to the inhabitants, who in many parts could not move a few miles from their doors without being subject to all the evils of this system? The peasant woman could not take her eggs or poultry to the next market, without bein~ examined and taxed on the frontier; the burgher could not get his breath of fresh air, without a custom-house officer detain- ing and searching, if not robbing, him on his road. It was as bad as if every county of England had its separate existence and sovereign privileges. Only imagine the ra5 e of the Surrey market gardener who could not bring his vegetables to London with- out unpackicig and paying for every cabbage and lettuce as he passed the river. Or, still ~vorse, fancy a smart Melton man, as he was cantering to meet the Dukes hoctods on the Granthiani side, stopped as lie was quitting the borders of Leicester- shire, and forced to submit his pockets to the scrtctiny of a frontier guard. With what disgust would he watch that same guards examination of his pocket- pistol, and hear him declare that old Sherry could not enter Lincolnahire without paying duty. And when at last he threw down a shilling with a dn to the officer, to have it returned with the remark that shillings and sixpences were of no use there florins and groats were the currency of Lincoln! It is not very surprising that such evils as these should have lent their sufferers wit enough to find cecaix. LIVING AGE. VOL. xxix. 2 17 INSTINCT IN A BIRD.LUCY NEAL. divided among all the states according to the pop- ulation of each state. But as some of these popu- lations are much poorer than those of Prussia, and therefore less able to consume articles of foreign produce or duty-paying articles, the proportion which Prussia receives is less than what her con- sumption would otherwise bring in. This pecu- niary loss has been reckoned at 2,000,000 thalers yearly. We suspect, however, that it is much over-rated ; for the poorer states, which are non- manufacturing, folly make up for the surplus reve- aue they receive by their forced consumption of the dear, because protected, manufactures of Prussia. It was chiefly, however, to the political influence which the union conferred on Prussia that she looked for indemnification for her loss; and she found it beyond her hopes, for, thanks to the Cus- toms Union, she soon assumed the first place in Germany, and was rapidly excluding Austria from all influence or power. On the advantages of the Zollverein to Germany, were it merely in throwing down the innumerable barriers to intercourse which formerly existed, it is needless to enlarge. Its effect on the trade and commerce of Great Britain has heen commonly supposed to have heen highly injurious; but we are inclined to douht the fact, at least to the extent generally believed. It is true that the present Verein tariff is generally higher, and in some re- spects materially so, than that previously imposed by most of the states who joined the union except Prussia ; yet the greater facilities afforded to trade by the removal of the many hindrances which for- merly existed, and which are often more destruc- tive to commerce than even a high tariW have, we think, more than made up for a difference of duty. Although the duty has been raised in the greater number of states, yet it is in the smaller ones that this has occurred to the greatest extent. Of the 25,000,000 souls included in the union, only 5,000,- 000 now pay a higher duty than they did before they entered the union. Nor do we find that Brit- ish trade has decreased since the union was formed. In 1831, the annual value of British produce and manufactures exported to Germany was 3,845,7081., which has gone on pretty gradually increasing to 1840, when it reached 5,027,8441. In some arti- cles, particularly woollens, our German trade has more than doubled itself during that time, and has increased in a much greater proportion than it has in any other part of the world. In other articles, on the contrary, it has dwindled to almost nothing. This has occurred chiefly in dyed cottons, to which the drier air of the continent gives a great advan- tage; and to cheap hosiery goods, in which hith- erto 50 moch manual labor has been employed, compared to almost every other branch of manufac- ture, and in which, therefore, the lower rate of wages on the continent must enable them to under- sell us. That the manufactures of Germany have ad- vanced very rapidly under the auspices of the Verein is beyond question; nor can we be sur- prised that the removal of those restrictions and impediments to internal communication to which ~we have alluded, together with the long peace, the rapid increase of population, the cheapness of pro- visions, the industrious habits of the German peo- ple, and the poor diet with which they are contented, should have produced this effect. It is to these causes, and not to the Zollverein, that we must attribut.e the loss of certain branches of our German trade. The hosiers of Saxony have not only heat us in the German markets, but have actually driven us out of those of America, and are now threaten- ing us at home, in spite of the 10 per cent. protec- tive duty which our free-trade hosiers still enjoy. In fact, the stocking-machine has been unimproved from the day of its invention, more than two centu- ries ago, till nearly the present time; and as little capital is required in its purchase, small skill in its employment, and a great quantity of manual labor, it was but natural that cheapness of labor should produce cheapness of produce. A great revolution, bowever, is now in progress in this manufacture in the application of steam machinery to it; and we have no doubt that the advantage of great capital, with the cheapness of coal and iron, and our superior mechanical skill, ~vill soon restore us what we have lost in this class of goods. We must leave to another occasion the consider- ation of the Austrian scheme of a Customs Union of all Germany, the chances for and against its adoption, and the probable effect of such a union, should it be carried out, on Germany, and on the commerce of that country with Great Britain. INSTINCT IN A Bian.Once, when travelling in Tennessee, Wilson was struck with the manner in which the habits of the pennated grouse are adapted to its residence on dry, sandy plains. One of them was kept there in a cage, having heen caught alive in a trap. It was observed that the bird never drank, and seemed rather to avoid the water; but a few drops one day falling upon the cage, and trickling down the bars, the bird drank them with great dexterity, and an eagerness that showed she was suffering with thirst. The experiment was then made whether she would drink under other circumstances, and though she lived entirely on dry Indian corn, the cup of water in the ca0e was for a whole week untasted and untouched; hut the moment water was sprinkled on the bars, she drank it eagerly as before. It occurred to him at once, that in the natural haunts of the bird, the only water it could procure was from the drops of rain end dew. From Bentteys Miscellany. LUCY NEAL. i WAS BORN iN ALABAMA, & C. BAIIMiA me genuit, dominus mihi nomine Delus, Flava puella illi Lucia Neala foit. Me quasi susl)ectum furem male vendidit ille, Et procul k patria viciima raptos eram. Lucia prndulcis, si none mihi Lucia adesses, Huic tumid!) cordi gaudia quanta dares! Nigrorum in chores pra~luxit Lucia saltans, Ipsa puellarum Lucia prima fuit. Gossipium carpens errare solebat in agris, Lucia ibi primum visa et arnata mihi. Lucia confecta est morbo (dolor heu mihi quantus!) Lan0 nenti sed opem non roedicina tulit. Nuntia mox nigro mihi venit epistola signo, Hei mihi ter misero, Lucia morton erat! Abrepta est, ehen! sed pectore vulnus inhneret, Et mild vivit adhuc Lucia corde meo. Decurso vitm quum mortis imagine cingar, ~lox dabit dna sonom, Lucia cara,. Vale. Lucia prnduleis, si none mihi Lucia adesses, Huic tumido cordi gaudia quanta dares! CHARLES DE LA PRYME. Trin. Coil., CamS. 18 BEARS. From Bentleys Miscellany. BEARS. Slender. Why do your dogs bark so? be there bears i the town? Anne. I think there are, sir; I heard them talked of. S rider. I love the sport well; hut I shall as soon quarrel at it as any man in England ;you are afraid if you see the hear loose, are you not? Anne. Ay, indeed, sir. Slender. That s meat and drink to me now! I have seen Sackerson loose twenty times; and have taken him by the chain ; hut I warrant you the women have so cried and shrieked at it that it passedhut women, indeed, cannot abide em; they are very ill-favored, rough things. Merry Wives of Windsor. THOSE who ramble amidst the beautiful scenery of Torquay, who gaze with admiration on the bold outlines of the Cheddar Clifl~, or survey the fertile fen district of Cambridgeshire, will find it difficult to believe that in former ages these spots were ravaged by bears surpassing in size the grizzly bear of the Rocky Mountains, or the polar bear of the arctic regions; yet the abundant remains found in Kent Hole Torquay, and the Banwell Caves, together with those preserved in the Woodwardian Museum at Cambridge, incontestibly prove that such was the case. Grand, indeed, was the Fauna of the British isles in those early days! Lions the true old British Lionsas large again as the biggest African species, lurked in the ancient thickets; elephants, of nearly twice the bulk of the largest individuals that now exist in Africa or Ceylon, roamed here in herds; at least two species of rhinoceros forced their way through the primeval forests; the lakes and rivers were tenanted by hip- popotami as bulky, and with as great tusks, as those of Africa. These statements are not the offspring of imagination, but are founded on the countless remains of these creatures which are con- tinually being brought to light, proving, from their numbers and variety of size, that generation after generation bad been born, and lived, and died, in Great Britain.* It is matter of history, that the brown bear was plentiful here in the time of the Romans, and was conveyed in considerable numbers to Rome, to make sport in the arena. In Wales they were common beasts of chase; and, in the history of the Gordons, it is stated that one of that clan, so late as 1057, was directed by his sovereign to carry three bears heads on his banner, as a reward for his valor in killing a fierce bear in Scotland. In 1252, the sheriffs of London were commanded by the king to pay fourpence a day for our white bear in the Tower of London and his keeper ; and, in the following year, they were directed to provide unum musellum et tinam cathenam fer- ream Afln lice, a muzzle and an iron chain, to hold him when out of the water, and a long and strong rope to hold him when fishing in the Thames. This piscatorial bear most have had a pleasant time of it, as compared to many of his species, for the barbarous amusement of baiting was most popular with our ancestors. The household book of the Earl of Northumberland contains the following characteristic entry : Item, my Lorde usith and accustomith to gyfe yearly when hys Lordshipe is att home to his barward, when bee comyth to my Lorde at Cristmas with his Lordshippes beests, for making his Lordschip pastyme the said xij days xxs.,, 19 In firidgeward Without, there was a district called Paris Garden; this, and the celebrated Hockley in the Hole, were in the sixteenth century the great resorts of the amateurs in bear-baiting and other cruel sports, which cast a stain upon the society of that perioda society in a transition state, but recently emerged from barbarism, and with all the tastes of a semi-barbarous people. Sunday was the grand day for these displays, until a frightful occurrence which took place in 1582. A more than usually exciting bait had been announced, and a prodigious concourse of people assembled. When the sport was at its highest, and the air rung with blasphemy, the whole of the scaffolding on which the people stood gave way, crushing many to death, and wounding many more. This was considered as a judgment of the Al- mighty on these Sabbath-breakers, and gave rise to a general prohibition of profane pastime on the Sabbath. Soon after the accession of Elizabeth to the throne, she gave a splendid banquet to the French ambassadors, who were afterwards entertainer1 with the baiting of bulls and bears (May 25, 1559.) The day following, the ambassadors went by water to Paris Garden, where they patronized another performance of the same kind. Ilentzer, after describincr from observation a very spirited and bloody baiting, adds, To this entertainment there often follows that of whipping a blinded bear, which is performed by five or six nuen, standing circularly with whips, which they exercise upon him without any mercy, as he cannot escape because of his chain. He defends himself with all his strength and skill, throwing down all that come within his reach and not active enough to get out of it, and tearing their whips out of their hands and breaking them. Lanehuam, in Isis account of the reception of Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth, in 1575, gives a very graphic account of the righte royalle pas- times. It was a sport very pleasant to see the bear, with his pink eyes leering after his enemies approach; the nimbleness and wait of the dog to take his advantage, and the force and experience of the bear again to avoid his assaults. If he were bitten in one place, how he would pinch in another to get free; that if he were taken once, then by what shift with biting, with clawing, with roaring, with tossing and tumbling, he would work and wind himself from them, and when he was loose, to shake his ears twice or thrice with the blood and the slaver hang4ng about his physiognomy. These barbarities continued until a comparatively recent period, but are now, it is to be hoped, ex- ploded forever. Instead of ministering to the worst passions of mankind, the animal creation now contribute, in no inconsiderable degree, to the ex- pansion of the mind and the development of the nobler feelings. Zoological collections have taken the place of the Southwark Gardens and other brutal haunts of vice, and we are glad to say, often prove a stronger focus of attraction than the skittle ground and its debasing society. By them, laud- able curiosity is awakened, and the impression, es- pecially on the fervent and plastic minds of young people, is deep and lasting. The immense number of persons* of the lower orders, who visited the London Gardens during the past season, prove the interest excited. The love of natural history is inherent in the human mind, and now for the first * The number of visitors to the Zoolo,ical Gardens, * See A History of British Fossil Mammals, by our Regents Park, during the past year, was very nearly great zoologist, Professor Owen. 400,000. 20 BEARS. time the humbler classes are enabled to see to ad- vantage, and to appreciate the beauties of animals of whose existence they were in utter ignorance, or, if known, so tinctured with the marvellous, as to cause them to be regarded mainly as objects of wonder and of dread. California is hardly less remarkable for its bears than for its gold. The Grizzly Bear, expressly named Ursus Fero and U. Horribilis, reigns des- potic throughout those vast wilds which comprise the Rocky Mountains and the planes east of them, to latitude 61~. In size it is gigantic, often weigh- ing 800 pounds; and we ourselves have measured a skin eight feet and a half in length. Governor Clinton received an account of one fourteen feet long, but there might have been some stretching of this skin. The claws are of great length, and cut like a chisel when the animal strikes a blow with them. The tail is so small as not to be visi- ble; and it is a standing joke with the Indians (who, with all their gravity, are great wags) to desire one unacquainted with the grizzly bear to take hold of its tail. The strength of this animal may be estimated from its having been known to drag easily, to a considerable distance, the carcass of a bison, weighing upwards of a thousand pounds. Mr. Dougherty, an experienced hunter, had killed a very large bison, and having marked the spot, left the carcass for the purpose of obtaining assistance to skin and cut it up. On his return, the bison had disappeared! What had become of it he could not divine; but at length, after much search, dis- ~overed it in a deep pit which had been dug for it at some distance by a grizzly bear, who had carried it off and buried it during Mr. Doughertys absence. The following incident is related by Sir John Rich- ardson : A party of voyagers, who had been employed all day in tracking a canoe up the Sas- kachewan, had seated themselves in the twilight by a fire, and were busy preparing their supper, when a large grizzly bear sprang over their canoe, that was tilted behind them, and seizing one of the party by the shoulder, carried him off. The rest fled in terror, with the exception of a Metif, named Bou- rasso, who. grasping his gun, followed the bear as it was retreating leisurely with his prey. He called to his unfortunate comrade that he was afraid of hitting him if he fired at the bear, but the man entreated him to fire immediately, as the bear was squeezing him to death. On this he took a deliberate aim, and discharged his piece into the body of the bear, which instantly dropped his prey to follow Bourasso, who, however, escaped with difficulty, and the bear retreated to a thicket, where it is supposed to have died. The same writer mentions a bare having sprung out of a thicket., and with one blow of his paw completely scalped a roan, laying hear the skull, and bringing the skin down over the eyes. Assistance coming up, the bear made off without doing him further injury; but the scalp not being replaced, the poor man lost his sight, theugh it is stated the eyes were un- ujured. Grizzly bears do not hug, but strike their prey avith their terrific paws. We have been informed by a gentleman who has seen much of these crea- lures (having indeed killed five with his own hand) that when a grizzly bear sees an object, he stands on his hind legs, and gazes at it intently for ome minutes. He then, if it be a man or a beast, goes straight on, utterly regardless of numbers, and will seize it in the midst of a regiment of soldiers. One thing only scares these creatures, and that is the smell of man. If in their charge they should cross a scent of this sort, they will turn and fly. Our informant was on one occasion standing near a thicket, looking at his servant cleaning a gun. He had just dismounted, and the bridle of the thorough-bred horse was twisted round his arm. Whilst thus engaged, a very large grizzly bear rushed out of the thicket, and made at the servant, who fled. The bear then turned short upon the gentleman, in whose hand was a rifle, carrying a small ball,iorty to the pound ; and as the bear rose on his hind legs to make a stroke, he was fortunate enough to shoot him through the heart. Had the horse moved in the slightest at the critical moment, and jerked his masters arm, nothing could have saved him; but the noble animal stood like a rock. On another occasion, a large bear was shot mortal ly. The animal rushed up a steep ascent, and fell back, turning a complete somerset ere he reached the ground. The same gentleman told us two curious facts, for which he could vouch ; namely that these bears have the power of moving their claws independently. For instance, they will take up a clod of earth ~vhich excites their curiosity, and crumble it to pieces by moving their claws one on the other; and that wolves, however famished, will never touch a carcass which has been buried by a grizzly bear, though they will greedily devour all other dead bodies. The instinct of burying bodies is so strong with these bears, that instances are recorded where they have covered hunters who have fallen into their power and feigned death, with bark, grass, and leaves. If the men attempted to move, the bear would again put them down, and cover them as before, finally leaving them compar- atively unhurt. The grizzly bears have their caves, to which they retire when the cold of winter renders them torpid; and this condition is taken advantage of by the most intrepid of the hunters. Having satisfied themselves about the cave, these men prepare a candle from wax taken from the comb of wild bees, and softened by the grease of the bear. It has a large wick, and burns with a brilliant flame. Car- rying this before him, with his rifle in a convenient position, the hunter enters the cave. Having reached its recesses, he fixes the candle on the ground, lights it, and the cavern is soon illuminated with a vivid light. The hunter now lies down on his face, having the candle between the back part of the cave where the bear is, and himself. In this position, with the muzzle of the rifle full in front of him, he patiently awaits his victim. Bruin is soon roused by the light, yawns and stretches himself like a person awaking from a deep sleep. The hunter now cocks his rifle, and watches the hear turn his head, and with slow and waddling steps approach the candle. This is a trying moment, as the extraordinary tenacity of life of the grizzly bear renders an unerring shot essential. The monster reaches the candle, and either raises his paw to strike, or his nose to smell at it. The hunter steadily raises his piece; the loud report of the rifle reverberates through the cavern; and the bear falls with a heavy crash, pierced through the eye, one of the few vulnerable spots through which he can be destroyed. The Zoiilogical Society have at various times possessed five specimens of the grizzly hear. The first was Old Martin, for many years a well known inhabitant of the Tower Menagerie. We remem- ber him well as an enormous brute, quite blind BEARS. from cataract, and generally to be seen standing on his hind legs with open mouth, ready to receive any tit-bit a compassionate visitor might bestow. Notwithstanding the length of time he was in confinement, (more than twenty years,) all attempts at conciliation failed, and to the last he would not permit of the slightest familiarity, even from the keeper who constantly fed him. Some idea may he formed of his size, when we say that his skull (which we recently measured) exceeds in length by two inches the largest lions skull in the Osteo- logical Collection, although several must have belonged to magnificent animal. After the death of Old Martin, the Society re- ceived two fine young bears from Mr. Catlin, but they soon died. Their loss, however, has been amply replaced by the three very thriving young ani- mals which have been recently added to the Collec- tion. These come from the Sierra Nevada, about 800 miles from San Francisco, and were brought to this country by Mr. Pacton. They were trans- porterl with infinite trouble across the Isthmus of Panama, in a box carried on mens shoulders, and are certainly the first of their race who have per- formed the overland journey. The price asked was 6001., but they were obtained at a much less sum; since their sojourn in this country, they have greatly increased in ~ize, and enjoy excellent health. An additional interest attaches to these animals from two of them having undergone the operation for cataract. Bears are extremely subject to this disease, and of course are thereby rendered blind. Their strength and ferocity forbade anything being done for their relief, until a short time ago, when, by the aid of that wonderful agent, chloroform, it was dentonstrated that they are as amenable to curative measures as the human subject. On the 5th of last November, the first operirtion of the sort was performed on one of these grizzly bears, which was blind in both eyes. As this detracted materially from his value, it was decided to endeavor to restore him to sight; and, Mr. White Cooper having consented to operate, the proceedinrs were as follow :A strong leathern collar, to which a chain was attached, was firmly buckled around the patients neck, and the chain baying been passed round one of the bars in front of the cage, two powerful men endeavored to pull him up, in order that a sponge containing chloro- form should be applied to his muzzle by Dr. Snow. The resistance offered by the bear was as surpris- ing as unexpected. The utmost efforts of these inert were unavailing; and after a struggle of ten minutes, two others were called to their aid. By their united efforts, Master Bruin was at length brought up, and the sponge fairly tied round his muzzle. Meanwhile the cries and roarings of the patient were echoed in full chorus by his two brothers, ~vho had been confined to the sleeping den, and who scratched and tore at the door to get to the assistance of their distressed relative, in a den on one side was the Cheetah, whose leg was amputated under chloroform some months ago, and who was greatly excited by the smell of the fluid arid uproar. The large sloth bear, in a cage on the other side, joined hearrily in the chorus, and the Isabella bear just beyond, wrung her paws in an agony of woe. Leopards snarled in sympathy, and laughing hymenas swelled the chorus with their hysterical sobs. The octobasso growling of the polar bears, and the roaring of the lions on the 21 other side of the building, completed as remarkable a diapason as could well be heard. The first evidence of the action of the chloroform on the bear, was a diminution in his struggles; first one paw dropped, then the other. The sponge was now removed from his face, the door of the den opened, and his head laid upon a plank outside. The cataracts were speedily broken up, and the bear was drawn into the c~e again. For neatly five minutes lie remained, as was remarked by a keeper, without knowledge, sense, or understanding, till at length one leg gave a kick, then another, and presently lie attempted to stand. The essay was a failure, but he soon tried to make his way to his cage. It was Garrick, if we remember right, who affirmed that Talma was an indifferent represerita- tive of inebriation. for he was riot drunk in his legs.. The bear, however, acted the part to penfretion, and the way in which (like Commodore Trurinion on his way to church) he tacked, during his route to his den, was ludicrous in the extreme. At length he blundered into it, and was left quiet for a time. He soon revived, and in the afternoon ate heartily. The following morning, on the door being opened, he came out, staring about him, caring nothing fur the light, and began humming, as he licked his paws, with much the air of a musical amateur sit- ting down to a sonata on his violoncello. A group might have been dimly seen through the fog which covered the garden, on the morning of the 15th November, standing on the spot where the proceedings above narrated took place ten days previriusly. This group comprised Professor Owen, Mr. Yarrell, the President of the Society, Count Nesselrode, Mr. Waterhouse, Mr. Pickersgill, R. A., Captain Stanley, R. N., and two or three other gentlemen. They were assembled to witness the restoration to sight of another of the grizzly bears. The bear this time ~~as brought out of the den, and his chain passed round the rail in front of it. Di- luted chloroform was used, and the operation was rendered more difficult by the animal not being perfectly under its influence. He recovered imnie- diately after the couching needle had been with- drawn from the second eye, and walked pretty steadilyto his sleeping apartment, where he received the condolences of his brethren, rather ungraciously it must be confessed, but his head was far from clear, and his temper ruffled. When the cataracts have been absorbed the animals will have sight. The ~vooded districts of the American continent were tenanted, before civilization had made such gigantic strides, by large numbers of the well known black bear, Ursus Ainericanus. Some years ago, black bears skins were greatly in vogue for carriage hammer-cloths, & c.; and an idea of the animals destroyed may be formed from the fact, that in 1783, 10,500 skins were imported, and the numbers gradually rose to 25,000 in 1803, since which time there has been a gradual decline. In those days, a fine skin was worth from twenty to forty guineas, but may now be obtained for five guineas. The chase of this bear is the most solemn action of time Laplander; and the successful hunter may he known by the number of tufts of bears hair he wears in his bonnet. When the retreat of a bear is discovered, the ablest sorcerer of the tribe beats the runic drum to discover the event of the chase, and on which side the animal ought to be assailed. During the attack the hunters join in a prescribed chorus, and beg earnestly of the bear that he will do them no mischief. When dead, the body is 22 BEARS. carried home on a sledge, and the rein-deer employed ing of a sheep, while the hy~ena quietly consumed to draw it is exempt from labor during the remain- the remainder of the dinner. der of the year. A new hut is constructed for the The following is an account of an adventure express purpose of cooking the flesh, and the hunts- which occurred to Frank Forester, in America. A men, joined by their wives, sing again their songs large hear was traced to a cavern in the Round of joy and of gratitude to the animal, for permitting Mountain, and every effort made for three days them to return in safety. They never presume to without success to smoke or burn him out. At speak of the bear with levity, but always allude to length a bold hunter, familiar with the spot, hint with profound respect, as the old man in the volunteered to beard the animal in his (len. The fur cloak. The Indians, too, treat him with much well-like aperture, which alone could be seen from deference. An old Indian, named Keskarrah, was without, descended for about eight feet, then turned seated at the door of his tent, by a small stream, sharp right off at right angles, running nearly hon- not far from Fort Enterprise, when a large bear zontally for about six feet, beyond which it opened came to the opposite bank, and remained for some into a small circular chamber, where the bear had time apparently surveying him. Keskarrab, con- taken up his quarters. The man determined to sidering himself to be in great danger, and having descend, to worm himself, feet forward, on his no one to assist him but his aged wife, made a back, and to shoot at the eyes of the bear, as they solemn speech, to the following effect : Oh, would be visible in the dark. Two narrow laths bear, I never did you any harm; I have always had of pine wood were accordingly procured, and the highest respect for you and your relations, and pierced with holes, in which candles were placed never killed any of them except through necessity. and lighted. A rope ~vas next made fast about his Pray, go away, good bear, and let me alone, and I chest, a butchers knife disposed in readiness for promise not to molest you. The bear (probably his grasp, and his musket loaded with two good regardi~~g the old gentleman as rather a tough ounce bullets, well wrapped in greased buckskin. morsel) walked off, and the 01(1 man, fancying Gradually he disappeared, thrusting the lights that he owed his safety to his eloquence, favored before him with his feet, and holding the musket Sir John Richardson with his speech at length. ready cocked in his hand. A few anxious mu- The bear in question, however, was of a different mentsa low stifled gro~vl vas heardthen a species to, and more sanguinary than, the black loud, bellowing, crashing report, followed by a bear, so that the escape of the old couple was re- wild and fearful howl, half anguish, half furious garded as remarkable. rage. The men above wildly and eagerly hauled The Ursus Arnericanus almost invariably hyber- up the rope, and the sturdy hunter was whirled into nates; and about a thousand skins have been an- the air uninjured, and retaining in his grasp his nually imported by the Hudsons Bay Company, good weapon; while the fierce brute rushed tear- from these black bears destroyed in their wii~ter ing after him even to the caverns mouth. As soon retreats. A spot under a fallen tree is selected for as the man had entered the small chamber, he per- its den, and, having scratched away a portion of the ceived the glaring eyeballs of the bear, had taken soil, the bear retires thither at the commencement steady aim at them, and had, he believed, lodged of a snow-storm, and the snow soon furnishes a his bullets fairly. Painful moanings were soon close warm covering. When taken young, these heard from within, and then all was still! Again hears are easily tamed; and the following mci- j the bold man determined to seek the monster: dent occurred to a gentleman of our acquaintance: again he vanished, and his musket shot roared A fine young bear had been brought up by him from the recesses of the rock. Up he was whirled; with an antelope of the elegant species called Furci- but this time, the bear, streaming with gore, and fer, the two feeding out of the same dish, and being furious with pain, rushed after him, and with a often seen eating the same cabbage. He was in mighty bound, cleared the confines of toe cavern! the habit of taking these pets out with him, lead- A hasty and harmless volley was fired, whilst the ing the bear by a string. On one Occasion he was f bear glared round as if undecided upon which of thus proceeding, a friend leading the antelope, when the group to wreak his vengeance. Tom, the a large fierce dog flew at the latter. The gentle- hunter, coolly raised his piece, but snap! rio spark man, embarrassed by his charge, called out for followed the blow of the hammer! With a curse assistance to niy informant, who ran hastily up, Tom threw down the musket, and, drawing his and in doing so accidentally let the bear loose, knife, rushed forward to encounter the bear single He seemed to be perfectly aware that his little handed. What would have been his fate had the companion was in difficulty, and, rushing forward, bear folded him in his deadly hug, we may be knocked the dog over and over with a blow of his pretty sure; but ere this could happen, the four paw, and sent him off howling. The same bear bullets did their work, and he fell; a convulsive would also play for hours wit.h a Bison calf, and shudder passed through his frame, and all was when tired with his romps, jumped into a tub to still. Six hundred odd pounds did he weigh, and rest; having recovered, he would spring out and great were the rejoicings at his destruction. resume his gambols with his boisterous playfellow, The wild pine forests of Scandinavia yet contain who seemed to rejoice when the bear was out of bears in considerable numbers. The general color breath, and could be taken at a disadvantage, at of these European bears is a dark brown, and to a which time he was sure to be pressed doubly hard. great degree they are vegetable feeders, although There was a fine bear of this description in the old exceedingly fond of ants and honey. Their Tower Menagerie, which long shared his den with favorite food is berries and succulent plants; and a hyrena, with whom he was on ~ood terms except in autumn, when the berries are ripe, they become at mealtimes, when they would quarrel in a very exceedingly fat. Towards the end of November ludicrous manner, for a piece of beef, or whatever the bear retires to his den, and passes the winter else might happen to form a bone of contention months in profound repose. About the middle of between them. The hyama, though by far the April he leaves his den, and roams about the smaller, was generally master, and the bear would forest ravenous for food. These bears attain a moan most piteously in a tone resembling the bleat- large size, often weighing above four hundred BEARS. pounds: and an instance is on record of one having weighed nearly seven hundred and fifty pounds. The best information relative to the habits and pursuits of these Scandinavia bears is to be found in Mr. Lloyds Field Sports of the North of Europe, from which entertaining work we shall draw largely. When a district in Sweden is infested with bears, public notice is given from the pulpit during divine service, that a sk~ill or battue is to take place, and specifying the number of people required, the time and place of rendezvous, and other particulars. Sometimes as many as 1500 men are employed, and these are regularly organized in parties and divisions. They then extend themselves in such a manner that a cordon is formed, embracing a large district, and all simultaneously move forward. By this means the wild animals are gradually driven into a limited space, and destroyed as circumstances admit. These skMls ar~ always highly exciting, and it not unfrequently happens that accidents arise, from the bears turning upon and attacking their pursuers. A bear which had been badly wounded, and was hard pressed, rushed upon a peasant whose gun had missed fire, and seized him by the shoulders with his forepaws. The peasant, for his part grasped the bears ears. Twice did they fall, and twice get up, without loosening their holds, during which time the bear had bitten through the sinews of both arms, from the wrists upwards, and was approaching the exhausted peasants throat, when Mr. Falk, 6fwer jug miistare, or head ranger of the Wermeland forests, arrived, and with one shot ended the fearful conflict. Jan Svenson was a Dalecarlian hunter of great repute, having been accessory to the death of sixty or seventy bears, most of which he had himself killed. On one occasion he had the following des- perate encounter Having, with several other peasants, surrounded a very large bear, he advanced with his dog to rouse him from his lair; the dog dashed towards the bear, who was immediately after fired at and wounded by one of the peasants. This man was prostrated by the infuriated animal, and severely lacerated. The beast now retraced his steps, and came full on Jan Svenson, a shot from whose rifle knocked him over. Svenson, thinking the bear was killed, coolly commenced reloading his rifle. He had only poured in the powder, when the bear sprung up and seized him by the arm. The dog, seeing the jeopardy in which his master was placed, gallantly fixed on the bears hind quarters. To get rid of this annoyance, the bear threw himself on his back, making with one paw a blow at the dog, with the other holding Svenson fast in his embraces. This he repeated three several times, handling the man as a cat would a mouse, and in the intervals he was biting him in different parts of the body, or standing still as if stupefied. In this dreadful situation Svenson remained nearly half an hour; and during all this time the noble dog never ceased for a moment his attacks on the bear. At last the brute quitted his hold, and, moving slowly to a small tree at a few paces distance, seized it with his teeth ; he was in his last agonies, and presently fell dead to the ground. On this occasion Svenson was wounded in thirty-one different places, principally in the arms and legs. This forest monster had, in the early part of the winter, mortally wounded another man, who was pursuing him, and from his great size was an object of general dread. 23 Lieutenant Oldenburg, when in Torp in Norr- land, saw a chasseur brought down from the forest, who had been desperately mangled by a bear. The man was some distance in advance of his party, and wounded the animal with a ball. The bear imme- diately turned on him; they grappled, and both soon came to the ground. Here a most desperate struggle took place, which lasted a considerable time. Sometimes the man, who was a powerful fellow, being uppermost, at other times the bear. At length, exhausted with fati~ue and loss of blood, the chasseur gave up the contest, and, turn- ing on his face in the snow, pretended to be dead. Bruin, on this, quietly seated himself on his body, where he remained for near half an hour. At length the chasseurs companions came up, and relieved their companion by shooting the bear through the heart. Though terribly lacerated, the man eventually recovered. Captain Eurenius related to Mr. Lloyd an inci- dent which he witnessed in Wenersborg, in 1790: A bear-hunt or skull was in progress, and an old soldier placed himself in a situation where he thought the bear would pass. He was right in his conjecture, for the animal soon made his appear- ance, and charged directly at him. He levelled his musket, but the piece missed fire. The bear was now close, and he attempted to drive the muzzle of the gun down the animals throat. This attack the bear parried like a fencing-master, wrested the gun from the man, and quickly laid him prostrate. Had he been prudent all might have ended well, for the bear, after smelling, fan- cied him dead, and left him almost unhurt. The animal then began to handle the musket, and knock it about with his paws. The soldier, seeing this, could not resist stretching ont his hand and laying hold of the muzzle, the bear having the stock firmly in his grasp. Finding his antagonist alive, the bear seized the back of his head with his teeth, and tore off the whole of his scalp, from the nape of the neck upwards, so that it merely hung to the fore- head by a strip of skin. Great as was his agony, the poor fellow kept quiet, and the bear laid him- self along his body. While this was going for- ward, Captain Eurenius and others approached the spot, and, on coming within sixteen paces, beheld the bear licking the blood from the bare skull, and eying the people, who were afraid to fire lest they should injure their comrade. Captain Eurenius asserted, that in this position, the soldier and bear remained for a considerable time, until at last the latter quitted his victim, and slowly began to re- tire, when a tremendous fire being opened, he fell dead. On hearing the shots, the wretched sufferer jumped up, his scalp hanging over his face, so as to completely blind him. Throwing it hack with his hand, he ran towards his comrades like a mad- man, frantically exclaiming, The bear! the bear! the scalp was separated, and the captain described it as exactly resembling a peruke. In one respect the catastrophe was fortunate for the poor soldier; it was in the old days of pipeclay and pomatum, and every one in the army was obliged to wear his hair of a certain form, and this man being, for satisfactory reasons, unable to comply with the regulation, and a tow whig not being ad- missible, he immediately received his discharge. A curious circumstance is related by Mr. Lloyd, showing the boldness of wolves when pressed by hungcr. A party were in chase of a bear, who was tracked by a dog. They were some distance behind the bear, when a drove of five wolves at- 24 BEARS. tacked and devoured the dog. Their appetites be- ing thus whetted, they forthwith made after the bear, and, coming up with him, a severe conflict ensued, as was apparent from the quantity of hair, both of the hear and wolves, that was scattered about t~e spot. Bruin was victorious, but was killed a few days afterwards by the hunters. The wolves, however, had made so free with his fur, that his skin was of little value. On another occa- sion, a drove of wolves attacked a bear, who, post- ing himself with his back against a tree, defended himself for some time with success; but at length his opponents contrived to get under the tree, and wounded him desperately in the flank. Just then some men coming up, the wolves retreated, and the wounded bear became an easy prey. It occasionally happens that cattle are attacked by bears, but the latter are not always victorious. A powerful bull was charged in the forest by a bear, when, striking his horns into his assailant, he pinned him to a tree. In this situation they were both found deadthe bull from starvation, the bear from wounds. So says the author above quoted. The hybernation of bears gives rise to a curious confusion of cause and effect in the minds of the Swiss peasantry. They believe that bears which have passed the winter in the mountain caverns, always come out to reconnoitre on the 2nd of Feb- ruary; and that they, if the weather be then cold and winterly, return, like the dove to the ark, for another fortnight; at the end of which time they find the season sufficiently advanced to enable theni to quit their quarters without inconvenience; but that, if the weather be fine and warm on the 2nd, they sally forth, thinking the winter past. But on the cold returning after sunset, they discover their mistake, and return in a most sulky state of mind, without making a second attempt until after the expiration of six weeks, during which time man is doomed to suffer all the inclemencies consequent on their want of urbanity. Thus, instead of attrib- uting the retirement of the bears tothe effects of the cold, the myth makes the cold to depend on the seclusion of the bears! The fat of bears has, from time immemorial, en- joyed a high reputation for promoting the growth of hair; but not a thousandth part of the bears grease sold in shops comes from the animal whose name it carries. In Scandinavia, the only part used for the hair is the fat found about the intes- tines. The great bulk of the fist, which in a large bear may weigh from sixty to eighty pounds, is used for culinary purposes. Bears hams, when smuoked, are great delicacies, as are also the paws; and the flesh of bears is not inferior to excellent beef. On a certain memorable day, in 1847, a large hamuper reached Oxford, per Great Western Rail- way, and was in due time delivered, according to its direction, at Chnistehureb, consigned to Francis Buckland, Esq., a gentleman well kno~vn in the University for his fondness for natural history. He opened the hamper, and the moment the lid was removed out jumped a creature about the size of an English sheep dog, covered with long shaggy hair, of a brownish color. This was a young bear, born on Mount Lebanon, in Syria, a few months before, who had now arrived to receive his edtmcation at our learned University. The moment that he was released from his irksome attitude in the hamper, he made the most of his liberty, and, tIme door of the room being open, he rushed off down the cloisters. Service was going on in the chapel, and, attracted by the pealing organ, or some other motive, he made at once for the chapel. Just as he arrived at the door, the stout verger happened to come thither from within, and the moment he saw the impish looking creature that was rushing into his domain, he made a tremendous flourish with his silver wand, and, darting into the chapel, ensconced himself in a tall pew, the door of which he bolted. Tiglath- pe-leser, (as the bear was called,) being scared by the silver wand, turned from the chapel, and scam- pered frantically about the large quadrangle, putting to flight the numerous parties of dogs, who in those days made that spot their afternoon rendezvous. After a sharp chase, a gown was thrown over Tig, and he was with difficulty secured. During the struggle, he got one of the fingers of his new mas- ter into his mouth, anddid he bite it off? No, poor thing ! but began vigorously sucking it, with that peculiar mumbling noise for which bears are remarkable. Thus was he led back to 1\Ir. B.s rooms, walking all the way on his hind legs, and sucking the finger ~vith all his might. A collar was put round his neck, and Tig became a prisoner. His good nature and amusing tricks soon made him a prime favorite with the undergraduates; a cap and gown were made, attired in which (to the great scandal of the dons) he accompanied his master to breakfasts and wine parties, where he contributed greatly to the amusement of the company, and par- took of good things, his favorite viauds being muf- fins and ices. He was in general of an amiable disposition, but subject to fits of rage, during which his violence was extreme ; btmt a kind word, and a finger to suck, soon brought him round. He was most impatient of solitude, and would cry for hours when left alone, particularly if it was dark. It was this unfortunate propensity which brought him in- to especial disfavor with the Dean of Chrisichureb, whose Greek quantities and hours of rest were sad- ly disturbed by rigs lamentations. On one occasion he was kept in college till after the gates had been shut, and there was no possibil- ity of getting himu out without the porter seeing him, when there would have been a fine of ten shillings to pay the next morning; for during this term an edict had gomme forth against dogs, amid the authorities not being learned in zoology, could not be persuaded that a bear was not a dog. Tig was therefore tied in a court-yard near his masters rooms, but that gentlemami was soon brought out by his piteous cries, amid could miot pacify him in any other way than by bringimig him into his rooms; and at bed-time Tig was chained to the post at the bottomn of the bed, where he remaimmed quiet till daylight, and then, shuffling on to the bed, awoke his master by licking his face; he took no notice, and presently Tig deliberately put his hind legs under the blankets, and covered himself up; there he remaimied till chapel time, when his master left him, and on his return found that the young gen- tleman had been amusing himnself during his soli- tude by overturiming everythiug he could get at in the rooni, and, apparently, had had a quarrel and fight with the lool~ing-glass, which was broken to pieces, and the wood-work bitten all over. The perpetrator of all this havoc sat on the bed, look- ing exceemlingly innocent, but rocking backwards and forwards as if conscious of guilt, and doubtful of the consequences. Near to Tigs house there was a little monkey tied to a tree, and Jackos great amusement was to make grimaces at Tig; and when the latter composed himself to sleep in FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. the warm sunshine, Jacko would cautiously descend from the tree, and, twisting his fingers in Tigs long hair, would give him a sharp pull, and in a moment was up the tree again, chattering and clat- tering his chain. Tig s anger was most amusing he would run backwards and forwards on his hind legs, sucking his paws, and, with his eyes fixed on Jacko, uttering all sorts of threats and imprecations, to the great delight of the monkey. He would then again endeavor to take a nap, only to he again disturhed by his little tormentor. Ilow- ever, these two animals established a truce. be- came excellent friends, and ~vould sit for half-an- hour together, confronting each other, apparently holding a conversation. At the commencement of the long vacation, Tig, with the other members of the university, retired into the country, and was daily taken out for a walk round the village, to the great astonishment of the bumpkins. There was a little shop, kept by an old dame who sold whip- cord, sugar-candy, and other matters, and here, on one occasion, Fig was treated to sugar-candy. Soon afterwards he got loose, and at once made off for the shop, into which he burst, to the unuttera- ble terror of the spectacled and high-capped old lady, who was knitting stockings behind the count- er ;the moment she saw his shaggy head, and heard the appalling clatter of his chain, she rushed up st~ irs in a delirium of terror. When assistance arrived, the offender was discovered, seated on the counter, helping himself most liberally to brown sugar; and it was with some difficulty, and after much resistance, that he was dragged away. Mr. Buckland had made a promise that Tig should pay a visit to a village about six miles dis- tant, and dr-termined that he should proceed thither on horseback. As the horse shied whenever the bear came near him, there was some difficulty in getting him mounted; but at last his master man- aged to pull him up by the chain, while the horse was held quiet. Tig at first took up his position in front, but soon walked round and stood up on his hind legs, resting his fore paws on his masters shoulders. To him this was exceedingly pleasant, but not so to the horse, who, not being accustomed to carry two, and feeling Tigs claws, kicked and plunged to rid himself of the extra passen,er. Tig held on like grim death, and stuck in his claws most successfully; for, in spite of all the efforts of the horse, he was not thrown. In this way the journey was performed, the country folks opening their eyes at the apparition. This reminds us of an anecdote mentioned by Mr. Lloyd. A peasant had reared a bear, which became so tame that he used occasionally to cause him to stand at the back of his sledge when on a journey; but the bear kept so good a balance that it was next to impossible to upset. him. One day, however, the peasant amused himself by drivin0 over the very worst ground he could find, with the intention, if possible, of throwing Bruin off his equilibrium. This went on for some time, till the animal became so irritated that he gave his master, who was in front of him, a tremendous thump on the shoulder with his paw, which frightened the man so much that he caused the bear to be killed immediat3ly; this, as he richly deserved the thump, was a shabby retaliation. When term re-commenced, Tiglath-pe-lezer re- turned to the university, much altered in appear- ance, for, being of the family of silver bears of Syria, his coat had become almost white; he was much bigger and stronger, and his teeth had made their appearance, so that he was rather more diffi- cult to manage; the only way to restrain him when in a rage, was to hold him by the ears; but, on one occasion, having lost his temper, he tore his cap and gown to pieces. About this time the British Association paid a visit to Oxford, and Tig was an object of much interest. The writer was present on several occasions when he was intro- duced to breakfast parties of eminent savans, and much amusement was created by his tricks, albeit they were a little rough. In inure than one in- stance he made sad havoc with book-muslins and other fragile articles of female attire; on the whole, however, he conducted himself with great propri- ety, especially at an evening meeting at Dr. Dan- benys, where he was much noticed, to his evident pleasure. Still, however, the authority of Christchurch, not being zoologists, had peculiar notions respect- ing bears; and at length, aftur numerous threats and pecuniary penalties, the fatal day arrived, and Tigs master was informed that citlier lie or the bear must leave Oxford the next morning. There was no resisting this, and poor dear Tig was, ac- cordingly, put into a box-a much larger one than that in which lie had arrivedand sent off to the Zoological Gardens, Regents Park; here he was placed in a comfortable den by himself; but, alas! he missed the society to which he had been accus-~ touted, the excitement of a college life, and the numerous charms by which the uiiiversity was endeared to him; he refused his food; he ran per- petually up and down his den, in the vain hope to escape, and was one morning found dead, a victim to a broken heart! From the Edinburgh Review. Foreign Reminiscences. By the late Lord HoL- LANO. Loimdon: 1850. Reprinted by Ilarper and Brothers. WE welcomed the very announcement of this little volume with sincere pleasure. It could not have been otherwise. Ti) all lovers of their coun- try any accession to the history of Europe, which recalled to their memory one who had so long been an ornament to our Parliament and to our society, could not but be acceptable. To those who recog- nized, in the consistent political career (if Lord Hol- land, an ardent love of liberty, a hatred of oppres- sion, and an unwearied and manly advocacy of religious toleration, a posthumous work from his pen could not fail to be an object of singular in- terest. Still more welcome must such a publica- tion be to those who had enjoyed the privilege of the authors social intimacy, and who remembered with grateful respect the varied delights of his ani- mated conversation; his wit, untainted by bitter- ness or sarcasm; his humorous pleasantry, guided by good sense and wisdom, and raised above vulgar irony or personality; his literary taste and dis- criminating memory, freed from all formalism or pedantry ; and the still higher qualifications of an unfailing flow of genial good-humor, and graceful and hearty benevolence, which seemed to create, and to rejoice in, the happiness Qf all who sur- rounded him. The brightness of the sunshine on his beautiful terrace, the brilliancy and the perfume of the flowers in his garden, the song of his night- ingales, and the memory or the society of those who, from the days of Addison, to those of Rogers, had added the charm of their accomplishments to 25 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. all that was most captivating in the beauties of Nature, would still have been but imperfect and incomplete without Lord Holland himself. We should be sorry not to have knownwe should grieve to have forgottenthat gallery, in which the luxuries of modern refinement were united with the picturesqne architecture of past timeswhere the literary treasnres of the library were rivalled by the intellectual wealth possessed and lavishly expended by Lord Holland and his guests, and where decorations, more precious than mere Works of art, recalled the features of that honorable band of statesmen who fought the battles of liberty against fearful odds. We remember with delight the distinguished persons who fre- quented that brilliant circle, rendering Holland House European, though not on that account less English. Yet even when that circle included such men as Talleyrand, Pozzi di Borgo, Guizot, de Broglie, Alva, Washington Irving, Everett, Ar- guelles, Czartoryski, together with those who were most illustrious in the annals of our home politics, and in science, literature, and professional emi- nence, it was still Lord Hollandwith his frank greeting, his gracious and benignant smile, his free and cheerful courtesy, his ready wit and eager gush of conversation, which made the real centre of attraction, bringing together, and, what is more difficult, keeping toc,ether, all that was most agree- able and most distinguished in the society of Lon- don and of the principal European capitals. Powers of conversation, the strength of which was only to be equalled by their gentleness, an appreciation of all that was deserving, either in performance or in promise, a vivacity which never lost itself in levity, a consideration for the opinions of others, never shown by any unbecoming sacrifice or concealment of his own, a love for his country, with its peculiar characteristics, opening out into an expansive love for mankind, encouraging foreigners to cherish him as a brother ;all these endowments, and qualities, were essential elements of his noble nature, which, in their happy combination, we never had seen equalled, and which it is not likely those who suc- ceed us can see excelled. It was with these feelings that we saw the first announcement of this publication; we confess it is in this spirit that we have read it. Our readers will perhaps think that this admission may incapac- itate us fir discharging faithfully our functions as crttics. We are far from considering such an in- ference to be necessarily correct. On the contrary, we are persuaded that the very prepossessions which we feel, and have endeavored to describe, have been disadvantageous, rather than favorable, to the an- thor. Had the work been anonymous, or had it proceeded, like many of those innumerable books, miscalled histories, from the Palais Royal or the quays of Paris, we are inclined to think that a more favorable judgment might have been formed of it, than when every sentence, nay, almost every line, is weighed against the high reputation of the author, and the anticipations of readers like our- selves. In this respect, too, the critical world, commonly so called, is often unjust. They judge a work riot absolutely, but relatively. They con- demn it because it does not reach a certain standard which they have gratuitously raised. Nay, they often condemn an author less in reference to the intrinsic merit of the work under their review, than in relation to his former performances. If Vimeira and Talavera had succeeded Waterloo, these critics would scarcely condescend to call either battle a victory. They cast aside Ivanhoe, because they have given their first love to XVaverley. In an old and neglected library we once chanced to turn over the volumes collected by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, arranged by her own hand, and illus- trated by her own marginalia. In the first volume of Amelia is recorded the following judgment: Superior to any one else, but inferior to Mr. Fielding. Thus it is that we are apt to require a climax in all things. Rejecting the rule of the Italian sonnet, which recommends rather a calm repose, than a point and epigram, in the concluding line, we ask that the last chords of our opera should be accompanied by double drums and the burst of a brass band, and that our curtain should drop be- fore the gold and tissue, the waving wings, and the flowery garlands of a modern ballet. We have hitherto spoken of the risks which an authors fame must run in consequence of the over- wrought expectations of his friends. But dangers of an opposite kind are likewise in store for a writer who has taken a leading part in contempo- raneous party contests. These dangers are indeed obvious, and against them all candid and impartial readers will feel bound to guard themselves. Has the author been a frank and chivalrous friend to liberty, and perhaps to those x~horn he considers to have loved liberty, if not wisely, yet too well I Men whose minds have dwelt exclusively on the errors, and, perhaps we may add, the crimes, which have been committed in the name of Liberty, will lay hold of every expression, every chance word, which by a perverted ingenuity can be tortured into a false application, or can be extended to gen- eral conclusions never contemplated by the author. To judge fairly the writings and the opinions of any author, and more especially of one who writes not only with entire frankness, but with vehemence, it is indispensable to read his argument with the general context of his character. From a neglect of this canon of criticism great mistakes are made, and gross injustice is committed. We know few stronger examples of this, than the vulgar opinions passed upon Edmund Burke. How often do we find that great man reproached with glaring incon- sistency. How often is his love of liberty in America contrasted with his defence of the aristoc- racy in France. How strongly is the somewhat overdrawn description of the follies and extrava- gance of an ancient monarchy, as depicted in his noble speech on economical reform, held up in op- position to his defence of the Court of Versailles, and of the elegant profusion of the Petit Trianon. How easy is it to suggest a seeming opposition between his love of religious liberty, and his en- thusiastic sympathy even for the petit collet of a French abbe. N~w,throughout all the vicissitudes of Burkes opinions, a more sound observer will trace two ruling and predominant principlesthe hatred of oppression, and the desire to protect the oppressed. These governed him in defending the independence of America, in impeaching Hastings, in pleading the cause of the Roman Catholics and of Ireland, and in throwing the full weight of his character and his abilities into the scale opposed to the tyranny of the French Jacobins. To one key- note he faithfully returned, however varied had been his modulations. We do not say that he always applied his great principles with prudence. Indeed, his mind, when excited, was incapable of moderation. He does not seem to have understood that there are few propositions to which it is not indispensable to assign definite limits, and that the 26 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. exaggerated enunciation even of an unque~~iionable truth, may at times produce more mischief than a falsehood itself. The duty we have thus endeavored to enforce the readers dutythat of applying to a text the commentary of the authors principle, in order to judge his meaning fairlyis especially necessary in relation to Lord Holland. A love of liberty, and consequent hatred of all oppression, and sympathy with all misfortune, governed him throurhout. These elements formed the lens through which he viewed all ohjects; and we do not deny that, in certain cases, those ohjects were somewhat distorted, and occasionally discol- ored hy the medium thus interposed. From this danger, more dispassionate, and, we may add, more commonplace, minds would have been exempt. But if he had been more cautious and worldly, much of the attractiveness of his character would have been lost. In his sympathy for misfortune he could not hring himself to remember the offences of the unfortunate. In his love for freedom he failed in some cases to dwell on the crimes of those who adopted liberty as their watch-word. He felt that he who defends oppression shares the crime. Thus, he frequently took an imperfect view of things, and formed an incomplete estimate of char- acter ;neglecting to strike a balance like a prudent calculator, from his very anxiet.y to supply what had seemed to him to have been wanting in others. He rushed to the defence of the defenceless, with all the force that belonged to himself and to his race. Under these noble impulsescareless of misrepresentation, and despising all dangers on the one hand, and all vulgar popularity on the other he raised his voice for Lafayette at Olmutz, and for Napoleon at St. helena. We believe he would have done nearly the same, had the Archduke charles been in the Bic~tre, or Marshal Suvarrow in the Conciergerie, provided they were victims uf tyranny or suffering for their opinions. But our attachment to the author is delaying us unreasonably from the consideration of his work. The period included in Lord Hollands narrative extends from the year 1791 to the death of Napo- leon, in 1821. The Reminiscences are far from giving any history, or even any sketch, of the events of those eventful years. The author neither claims to be a historian nor a biographer. He neither exhibits to us a series of historical pictures, nor a gallery of portraits. He enters upon no philosophical analysis of the causes of those stu- pendous events which began with the French Rev- olution, and seemed to have closed at Waterloo. No light is cast which enables us to view future events more clearly. Neither is our knowledge of the general condition of the people, in those parts of Europe which Lord Holland visited, much extended. But this is no more than to say dis- tinctly, that these reminiscences do not perform that which they never promise. What they do give us is a succession of lively and agreeable anecdotes, in some cases explaining interesting though detached factsin others supplying indi- vidual traits of character. We could have wished that Lord Holland had favored us with a little more of personal narrative ;we venture to retain the designation, notwithstanding the doubt implied in Lord Wellesleys question, whether the title of personal narrative was pure and idiomatic Eng- lisha doubt evaded rather than overruled by the wit of Lord Plunkets answer : We lawyers are the last persons who ought to condemn the title as 27 applied to modern travels; for we use the word personal in opposition to real. Had this volume heen more personal, had more of himself in it, we are convinced it would have been more real also. Lord Holland would have been more happy and more entertaining, in describing his own views and impressions, than in making himself the mere chronicler of the sayings of others. We could also have wished that his attention had been less exclusively diplomatic. Kings, princes, states- men, and generals are, it is true, the pieces on our political chess-board, and our honors are sought among the court cards. It is not upon them, how- ever, that the success of the game exclusively depends; the pawns should not be altogether over- looked. That this omission should appear in a work of Lord Hollands surprises us, for his warmest symopathies were given to the people. The too exclusive character of his Reminiscences leads to another unpleasing result. Unquestion- ably, if we seek for real elevation of mind, and an approach to the heroic or the chivalrous, it is not among the continental sovereigns or statesmen, at the close of the last century and at the commence- ment of the present, that such excellences are dis- coverable. Anecdotes selected from that class, and at that period, illustrate generally the less attract- ive parts of our nature, and would seem brought together to prove little more than How all prime ministers are odious things, And reigning dukes are quite as bad as kings. Many of the facts recorded in these pages are not only painful hut repulsiveresembling anatomical preparations exhibited as specimens of morbid humanity in a snrgical school, rather than any picture of healthy life. This, it should however be observed, is more the fault of the subject than of the painter. Only we must be so much the more careful to avoid generalizing on so partial a collec- tion of facts. It may, indeed, frequently be useful to hold up to public odium and contempt those who, being entrusted with power and placed in high station, are unconscious of the responsibility, and of the duties, which that power entails on its possessors. It may be useful, also, to remind the worshippers of Fortune that their idols are too often formed of base metal ;but it would be alike unwise and unjust to hold up these degraded char- acters as true exponents of the class to which they belong; and it would be still more unjust to con- sider them as fair specimens of the social system of which they form only a part. To us, as British subjects, such pictures produce but little compara- tive danger. With the religious and moral feel- ing of the country and its free institutionsno less salutary in their influence on the character of sovereigns and statesmen, than conducive to their true happiness and to the maintenance of their legitimate authoritywe are safe; and are tatight, by contrast, to appreciate more justly the blessings ~ve enjoy, and the incalculable worth of a virtuous as well as a constitutional monarchy. The first visit of Lord Holland to the Continent of Europe was in 1791, when he made a journey to France. Born in November, 1772, he could not have acquired the necessary experience to enable him to pass a fair judgment either on men or events. This he frankly states : I was a mere boy, and too little acquainted with the habits and manners of the people to observe mach. (P. 2.) This admission should be borne constantly in mind; more especially in his observations on the early FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. stages of the French Revolution, and on the per- sons engaged in the events of those fearful days. Indeed, so far is Lord Holland from requiring us to give him an unhesitating confidence, that he puts his readers especially on their guard. As a foreigner, however favorable his opportunities or sound his judgment, seldom relates any English event, or describes any English character, without committing so me gross blunder, I speak myself, with the reflection that I also must be liable to he misled by false information, or to form an errone- ous estimate of manners, opinions, and transactions out of my own country. I can only vouch for the anecdotes I record, by assuring my renders that I believe them, and repeat them as they were under- stood and received by me, from what appeared sufficient authority. (P. 1.) It is therefore obvi- ous, that if doubts may be suggested with respect to the accuracy of some of the anecdotes contained in this volume, our mistrust applies to Lord Hol- lands informants, not to himself. The sketch given of Mirabean was evidently drawn before the publication of the Souvenirs, by Dumont. The general testimony of this most excellent person is somewhat undervalued by Lord Holland. Whilst admitting, as he would have been the last man to question, the scrupulous truth- fulness of Dumont, Lord Holland adds, that he was, by his own admission, a very inobservant, and by his (Lord Hollands) experience, a very credu- lous man. (Notes, pp. 2, 4.) Yet, while doubt- ing Dumont, Lord Holland adopts without scruple the authority of Talleyrand. This preference we much question in matters coming within his per- sonal observation we have no hesitation in setting the credit of the Genevese bon-liomme and philoso- pher greatly above the credit of the astute and unscrupulous diplomatist and ex-bishop. The origin of an admirable bon m6t, no less character- istic of Mirabeaus v~nity than of Talleyrands wit, though vou~hed by Dumont and many others, is by Lord Holland brought into question. When Mirabean was describing in great detail, and with his accustomed eloquence, all the high qualities requisite for a great minister of France in a time of crisismerits which the orator evidently con- sidered to be united in himself All this is true, a friend replied, but you have omitted one of his qualifications. No, surely ; what do you mean ? Should he not also, added the same sarcastic questioner, he pitted with the small- pox 1 thus identifying the picture as the portrait of the painter. It is hardly possible to doubt that this was a reply of Talleyrand, ant Erasmi ant diaboli ; and we receive it on its internal evidence no less than on the authority of Dumont. We have already quoted Lord Hollands authori- ty to prove that he was conscious of the possibility of being misled by the evidence of others. We cannot help thinking that examples of this may be traced in some of the remarks he makes on the character of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette. The scene in the Legislative Assembly, when the king made his declaration in favor of the constitu- tion, is well described. The. memorable words, Je lai acceptde, et je la maintiendrai, de dans et dehors, were delivered in a clear but tremulous voice, with great appearance of earnestness. Lord Holland was fortified in his enthusiastic persuasion that Louis was seriously attached to the new con- stitution. We believe he was right. Yet he afterwards asserts that the king was at that very moment, if not the main instigator, a coadjutor and adviser of the party soliciting foreign powers to put down that very constitution by force. (P. 14.) If this were true, baseness and perfidy could hardly have heen carried further. It is with surprise and regret that we find this charge made in the text, more especially when we are informed in a note, evidently written long after, that La- fayette, and some others concerned in the events of those days, even now acquit Louis XVI. of all par- ticipation in the plan for invading France. Lord Holland adds: I have no private knowledge on the subject whatever. It is true that he refers, though veryvaguely, to public documents, in sup- port of his assertion. We presume he had in mind the mission of Mallet du Pin, and the documents published by Bertrand de Molleville (pp. 837); but these are far from confirming his assertion. The great object of Louis was to avert a civil ~var; and he seemed almost as much to fear the erni- grants, as he feared the Jacohins. We are both unable and unwilling to adopt the unfrietidly judg- ment which we think is here too rashly pronouiiced. Neither do we see any reason to impute vanity as one of the bad qualities of Louis XVI. The imputation rests upon no stronger foundation than his supposed want of confidence in his ministers. Mdy ~ve not find a more natural solution of this, in the fact that these ministers, forced upon hito by circumstances, were undeserving of his personal confidence I One anecdote is indeed given in rela- tion to the dismissal of M. de Calonne, which attributes the fall of that minister to a court in- trigue of the queen. Is it not at the least as probable that a vain minister, turned out of office, should have cast the responsibility on an unpopular queen, rather than adniit a cause derogatory to his own self-importance and painful to his self-love I Mignet, no mean authority, attributes the fall of M. de Calonne to very different causes. LAssem- blde des Notables, he ob.serves, decouvrit des eruprunts elevds i~ on milliard six cents quarante cinq millions, et on deficit annuel de cent quarante millions. Cette rdvdlation flit le signal de ha cbtite de Calonne. The story told of the kings supposed brutality to Marie Antoinette, his rebuke to her for meddling with matters, auxquelles les femmes nont rien ~ faire, and finally the coarseness of taking h erhy the shoulders and turning her out of the room like a naughty child, is, to say the least of it, highly improbable. But that such forgetfulness of all propriety and decorum should have taken place in the presence of a third party, and that party M. de Calonne, a man of courtly manners and address, seems incredible. The reply of that statesman to an intimation from Marie Antoinette that she had a request to make, was, Madame, si cest possi- ble, cest fait; si cest impossible, celk se fera, indicates the character of the ministre courtisan, who would have been the last person permitted by Louis XVI. to be a witness to acts of discourtesy towards a woman and a queen. But Madame Campan furnishes us with conclusive evidence that M. de Calonne, on whose testimony Lord Holland relies, could not be considered other- wise than as a witness influenced by the most ma- lignant feelings against the queen. She tells us Ia reine avait acquis Ia preuve que ce ministre dtait devenue son plus cruel ennemi. Je puis at- tester que j ai vu dans les mains de ha reine on man- uscript des M~moirs infames de Ia femme Laniotte, corrigd de la main m~me de M. de Calonne. A minister capable of such baseiiess towards the wife 28 29 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. of his sovereign is unworthy of credit either to scarcely consistent with the extreme delicacy anti prove charges of personal vanity against Louis discretion which Lord Holland assumes as his XVI. or political treachery on the part of the queen. reason for rejecting the written evidence of If we see no sufficient reason to adopt the state- Madame Campan, and giving faith to second-hand rnents of M. de Calonne against Louis XVI., still reports of her supposed conversations. If Lord less can we acquiesce in the inferences drawn on Hollands hypqthesis of the extreme reserve of grounds still more unsuhstantial, attrihuting irre~u- Madame Campan were correct, how can we think larities and infidelities to Marie Antoinette. It it possihle that she could afterwards have divulged should he rememhered that against that unhappy the whole guilty mystery in conversation, iuvolv- princess the most violent hatred and animosity were ing, as it did, her own disgrace, her royal mis- directed. Even hefore the old prestige for their tress dishonor, and the illegitimacy of the Duch- ling had haen wholly effaced from the minds of the ess dAngoul~me? It is stated that Madame French people, Madame Deficit arid Madame Veto, Canipan acknowledged these facts to others, who as she was called, was held up to odium hy the whole acknowledged them to Lord Holland (p. 18) ; a revolutionary party. No malignity was spared, very slender thread, it must he confessed, on which and calumnies the most ahsurd were invented and to hang so weighty a charge. The only statement circulated. Of these the motive suggested for her approaching the character of evidence is one which dislike to EgaIit~, namely, the spretne in juria Talleyrand alleges to have been communicated to forma~, is a sufficient example. That she should him by Madame Campan; it is to the effect that on have selected as an object of preference a man per- the night of the memorable 6th October, Fersen sonally unattractive as well as most dangerous, is was t6te-& -t6te with the Queen, and that he escaped not to be helieved, though the judicium Paridis from her boudoir, or bed-room, in a disguise pro- had been pronounced in favor of the scandalous cured for him by Madame Campan herself. This, charge. Lord Holland wholly rejects it. Even again, is only hearsay of the same description, many of those who were anxious to preserve the though it obtains some trifling additional weight in kin~, and royalty, thought that the best measure consequence of its resting on Talleyrands au- for his security would be the banishment of Marie thority. The evidence, even at best, as it did not Antoinette. Her friends ~vere few arid powerless. come within his personal knowledge, would be Had she been really guilty of impurity of life, and merely the uncorroborated testimony of an accom- corruption of murals, it cannot be doubted that plice. But the story is utterly incredible on other there would have been better proof tendered grounds. The time and place fixed, the peril with against her than the strained inferences on which which the queen was at the period surrounded, pre Lord Holland relies, and on which we feel it to be elude the possibility that this anecdote should have our duty to comment. been correctly reported by Tahleyrand ; and Mad- Let us, then, stop to inquire what is that testi- anne Campan, in describing the fearful scenes of mony. It is hearsay throughout, and supposed to October, says, k cette ~poque je n6tais pas de be derived from a single witness, with whom it is service aupr~s la reine. M. Campan y resta jus- (Vol. ii., not stated he ever communicated personally. We quk deux heures du matin. p. 75.) allude to certain supposed conversations of Madame It is undoubtedly true that durnug the revolution- Campan, made known by others to Lord Ilolland. ary period, the queen held secret communications But this lady was an authoress, and tine public have with persons attached to herself amid her family. read her Memoirs. Not one line or word can be It ~vould have been indeed most strange if she had quoted from them to support any suspicion of the I not done so. When her husbands life and crown qui~ens frailty. The very contrary is the fact. were at stakewhen the lives of her children were Whatever might be Madame Campans predilec- in peril~vhen, even amidst the cowardice and Pun for the royal fannnily, yet if a somewhat gos- apostasy of the many, there remained some few siping French lady, undertaking .to write court who were faithfulcan we doubt the prudence, memoirs, had been in possession of facts like those nay, the duty, of such intercourse? but if it were alluded to, we conceive the temptation to hint, if even proved to have been carried on by night and not to tell, the secret, would have been irresisti- in secret, are we entitled, on this account, to cast ble. To believe in her entire reserve on the suspicion on the honor of the queen? Not only occasion would be as difficult as to inmagine that was the intercourse we have suggested highly she would have ordered her gigdt, without time probablethere can be no doubt but that it acto- petit coup dail, which is its proper seasoning. ally took place, from the evidence of parties them- Lord Holland, indeed, accounts for tier silence on selves engaged mi the transaction. Among those the subject by attributing to her, a delicacy and a devoted to the royal cause, at the time of its great- discretiomi not only pardonable, but praiseworthy. est danger, were some of the officers of the Irish He adds, however, that her Mennoirs were disin- brigade; a gallant corps, which, from the day of genuous as concealing truths that it would have Fontenoy, had distinguished its courage on almost been unbecoming a lady to reveal. I3ut is this every battle-field of Europe. Attached to the quite the case? On the contrary, does not Lord crown by political feeling, bound to the queen by a Holland himself refer to those Memoirs to prove spirit of chivalry, these brave men ~vere prepared the fact that Louis XVI. was not to be considered to risk their lives for her deliverance. They as a very eager or tender husbanda fact which, forirmed an associationfor it must not be degraded though insufficient to support a charge against the by time name of a conspiracyfor this generous queen, yet, explained as it is by Madame Campan, purpose. All the necessary preparations were demonstrates that the authoress did not feel herself made at Paris, on the road, and at time outports. restrained by delicacy within any very narrow or It as proposed to convey her, by sea, to a south- inconvenient limits? Madame Campan, after de- western port in Ireland. The house which was scribing the personal attractions of her royal mis- selected for her reception still exists; and a more tress, complains unreservedly of the froideur, miserable contr~ st to the Petit Trianon cannot well and the indifference affligeante, of the king. be conceived. The. leader of this chivalrous band The passage to which we allude (vol. i., p. 60) is jwas an Irishman of gre~ t force of character, one of FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. the Roman Catholic fuorusciti, ennobled by Joseph II., who admitted him to close intimacy; hut known less creditably by his daring spirit of gam- bling adventure at Spa, and other baths, and hy a sanguinary duel with Count Duharry, which gave him an unfortunate celehrity. The proposal for escape was communicated to the queen. It was shown that there was a strong probahility of suc- cess. But though the plan promised safety, it involved the abandonment of her husband and chil- dr6n. The queen refusedshe remained; and she remained to die. This anecdote, which we give upon the most conclusive evidence, is fully supported by Madame Campans authority : Les dvasions dtaient sans cesse proposdes (vol. ii., p. 103). La reine se recevait des conseils et des mdmoires de tout part (p. 106). La reine se rendait souvent it mon appartement, pour y donner audience, loin des yeux qui 6piaient ses moindres demarches (vol. iii., p. 161). Similar cases must have occurred, similar offers must have heen made, and necessarily made without the knowledge of Louis XVI. But are we justified on hearsay evidence of nightly visits to the queen, or of secret correspondence, to attribute to her a forgetfulness of her duties as a wifeand that in the case of a wife, who would not conde- scend to purchase her safety by ahandoning her hushand? To some persons the honor of Marie Antoinette may appear as stale and unprofitable a subject of inquiry as the scandal against Queen Elizaheth. We see the matter in a more serious light; and, independently of the general principles of truth and justice, ~hich are at issue, we feel that we are not so far removed from the events of the French revo- lotion, or so entirely disengaged from their mighty influences, as to render it indifferent and immaterial to guard a~ainst any mistake respecting the causes which produced or accelerated that social earth- quake. Talleyrand occupies a considerable share in these pages. This might have been expected, both from his position and from the intimacy existing hetween him and Lord Hollandan intimacy assuredly not founded on any similarity of mind or character. On the contrary, the marked contrast between the pol- ished astuteness of the French diplomatist and the frankness of the English statesman, must have made each an entertaining study to the other. The same contrast was whimsically exhihited in their per- sonal appearance. The half-closed, hut always sly and observant eye, the features cold and impassive, as if cut in stone, the physiognomie qui avait quclque chose de gracicux qui captivait, mais de malicieux qui effrayait, (Miguet, Discours a lAcaddrnie, vol. i., p. 110,) bespoke the suhtlest of all contemporary politicians, and was the very opposite of the open and generous countenance of Lord Holland. It appears that Talleyrand and Mr. Pitt were associates at Rheims after the peace of 1782. The one was acting as aumonier to his uncle, the arch- bishop; the other was at the time a student of the French language. How little could either party have foreseen the future destination of his compan- ion! Talleyrand appears to have felt, with some bitterness, that suhsequently, and more especially during his mission to England in 1794, Mr. Pitt never marked, by any personal attention, the slight- est recollection of the intimacy previously existing. We believe that this is far from being a solitary case. The cold and foggy atmosphere of our habits repels a foreigner accustomed to more genial manners as to a more genial climate. It is a curi- ous subject of speculation, to consider what mi~ht have been the result if these two eminent states- men had really combined for the purpose which we believe they had both sincerely at heartthe pres- ervation of peace between the two great nations of the West. We ought, however, to bear in mind, to guard us against relying too much on our hopes, that, some years antecedently, Talleyrand, whilst an abhe, and agent-general for the clergy of France, had fitted up a privateer, to cruise against Eng- land, during the American war. He was not, however, always so hostile; on the contrary, in his work on the commercial relations between the United States and Europe, he appears to have taken a correct view of our position, and expresses his unqualified opinion that it is with England, and not with France, that permanent treaties of alliance should he formed by the government of Washing- ton.(P. 39.) Lord Holland seems to have placed so unquali- fled and uureserved a confidence in the good faith and truthfulness of Talleyrand, that it almost amounted to credulity. Yet, at the very moment when he so declares his trust, he couples it with statements or admissions, which suggest grave rea- sons for doubt. My general and long observa- tion of Talleyrands veracity in great and small matters makes me confident, he observes, (p. 37,) that his relation is correct. He adds, however, He [nay, as much or more than other diplomats, suppress what is true; I am quite satisfied he never actually says what is false, though he may occa- sionally imply it. Less satisfactory evidence to support personal credit we have seldom heard. My friend is preeminently veracious, deposes the witness, called to character, except that he may, perhaps, more than others of his craft, sup- press the truth, and imply a falsehood. Nor does our mistrust rest solely on this admission. Lord Holland gives especial instances which are not without their significance. In describing the re- ports and papers (more especially that on Educa- tion) to which Talleyrand owed touch of his early celebrity, Lord Holland informs us, that they may be suspected of being the work of other men (p. 36). In like manner, we are told that it was just possible that the merit of a boa m~t not his own, might have made it somewhat tempting to Talleyrand to own it (p. 6). These matters may be passed over, perhaps, as trivial. Lord Holland, however, goes further. He informs us that, at Erfurt, Talleyrand, from a questionable prefer- ence of the interests of peace to the official duties of his confidential station, ventured secretly to ap- prise the Emperor of Russia that the object of the interview was to engage him in a war with Aus- tria; and he even went so far as to advise him to avoid going to Erfurt; or, if he did go, to resist the instances of Napoleon to make war (p. 172). lt is hardly possible to conceive more unprincipled treachery committed by a minister of state towards the sovereign he served, and to whom, whilst in his service, he was bound by every tie of honor and obligation. Had the diplomatist gone no further than to display at once his powers of tact and of flattery by his whisper to Alexander, when the two emperors were about to enter their carriages, re- turning to their respective dominions, Ah ! si v6tre majestd pouvait se tromper de voiture, we might have forgiven the characteristic hon m8t. But calmly and deliberately to betray the master he 30 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. served, would, even if the case stood alone, deprive Talleyrand of all claim on the confidence of man- kind. It is far from standing alone. In respect to that passage in Talleyrands life, which is generally referred to as the strongest proof of his faithfulnessnamely, his ultimate adoption of the cause of the BourbonsLord Hub land gives us a most curious illustration of the influence of accidental circumstances, not only on the destinies of men, but of nations. After the nego- tiations at Chatillon, we are informed that Talley- rand and the Duke Dalberg were both desirous to learn what conditions Austria would impose on France, if France were to agree to abandon and dethrone Napoleon. They employed, for this pur- pose, M. de Vitrolles, whom they little suspected of being, at the time, a secret agent of Monsieur and the Bourbons. This emissary was furnished with a ring, or some secret sign, to ensure him credit with Prince Metternich. Vitrolles, exceed- ing his instructions, but relying on his secret cre- dentials, assured the Allies that Talleyrand and others had formed their plot, and were determined to restore the Bourbons; and that they were awaiting a declaration in favor of the exiled fami- ly. On the arrival of the armies, the Allies were surprised to find that no such plot existed, and Talleyrand no less so that his name had been instrumental in restoring the Bourbons. He was, however, too quick-sighted not to make a virtue of necessity. The r~storation was inevitable; he was too adroit not to father the spurious child unexpect- edly sworn to him by the prostitute who had con- ceived it. (P. 299.) It is true that by this account, M. de Vitrolles is shown to have well merited the epithet applied to him. But what was Talleyrand We are inclined to say, Il y en a deux. We have dwelt upon the degree of credit due to the testimony of Tallevrand, not only because Lord Holland informs us that he relies almost implicitly upon himas it was from his authority that he derived much of the little knowledge he possessed of the leading characters in France before and after the Revolution, (p. 34)but for another and a far more important reason. The Prince Talley- rand has left, for fbture publication, the memoirs of his own time. This fact is put beyond all doubt by Lord Holland, in xvhose family circle parts of these memoirs were read. We can easilyima5ine the engonement with which these revelations may hereafter be received, and the degree of credit they may derive from the authors nanie, his wit, and the mystery attending the appearance of a work long suppressed. It becomes, therefore, important to suggest reasons to prevent his evi- dence from passing above its true value. It appears somewhat more than possible that one who had successfully overreached his contemporaries, should feel a secret pleasure in the hope of making a dupe of posterity. He has said, indeed, and said with his accustomed wit, De nos jours il nest pas facile de tromper long tems. Il-y-a quelquun qui a plus desprit qee Voltaire, plus desprit que Bo- naparte, plus que chacun des ministres passds, presents, et k venir. Cest tout le monde. But this well-turned epigram is so far from creating or mncreasmug our faith in its author, that we are inclined to believe that at the moment he uttered it he was contemplating with self-complacency the possibility of deceiving that very public before whose omniscience and infallibility he affected to bow down. We know from our police reports how skilfully an adroit thief contrives to carry olI the watches and purses of the incautious, whilst putting the owners off their guard by marked attention and demonstrations of respect. The best defence we have seen offered for the political perfidy of Talleyrand is the following extract, taken from his Eloge by Mignet, as pro- nounced at the Academy : Quand on n a eu qu une opinion, quand on na dtd lhomme que dune seule cause, le jour mY cette cause succombe on se tient h ldcart, et on senveluppe dans son deul; mais lorsquayant traversd de nombreuses rdvolu- tiuns on consid~re les gouvernemens comme des formes eph~rn~res dautoritd, lorsquun a pris lhab- itude de ne les admettre quautant quils savant se cunserver, on se jette an milieu des dv~nemens, poor en tirer le meilleur parti. (Mignet, IDis- cours, vol. i., p. 141.) Considering that the French historian has in this passage well described the French statesman, we are not surprised to find, even in his dloge, the following judgment pro- nounced upon Talleyrand: D~s sajeunesse lam- bition lui ayant dtd offerte comme perspective, et laissde commue ressource, il shabitua k subordonner la r~gle morale ii lutilitd politique. Il se dirigea surtout dapr~s les calculs de son esprit. (Vol. i., p. 158.) Whatever may be the opinion formed of Talley- rand as a statesman, in one judgment all must agree. We doubt whether any one in our times ever excelled him in the peculiar wit of which he was the great master. He combined at unce the point of Martial with the condensed sententiousness of Tacitus, and a grace and delicacy peculiar to the countrymen of Fontenelle. Lord Holland truly says that his bon rn6ts were, for forty or fifty years, more repeated and admired than those of any living man. The reason was obvious. Few men ut- tered so many, and yet fewer any equally good. By a happy combination of neatness in language and ease and suavity of manner, his sarcasms as- sumed a garb at once so courtly and so careless, that they often diverted as much as they could morti- fy their immediate objects. (P. 40.) This, though true, seems to us scarcely to distinguish with precisiun the peculiarities of Talleyrands wit. Its firce and raciness were even more striking than its brilliancy. It was weighty bullion rather than French wire. The ~vit of some who have been thought distinguished conversers resembles a flight of rockets, which rise and burst, and leave little behind but the falling stick and the smell of gun- powder. A second class exhibit their powers by xvriting in phosphorusvery brilliant, but very cold. A third class deal in electricity; draw sparks, or perhaps give a shock frpm a well- charged jar, but the whole is artificially prepared, and the rustling of the glass against the silk betrays the prevtous arrangement. With Talley- rand all was effective and terse, and at the same time was thoroughly natural. Above all, his wit was argumentative, and when used in conversa- tional warfare, it penetrated the roost solid block like a red-hot shot, embedding itself in the timber, producing combustion, or, perhaps, firing the bag- azine. Talleyrands wit exhibited all its charac- teristics, whether directed to political, to literary, or to social objects. Of this we have a happy example in his commentary on the complaint of deafness made by that vainest of all mortals, M. de Chateaubriand : Je comprends; depuis quon a cessd de parler de lui, il se croit sourd. An- other reply of his is also given us by Lord Holland, 31 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. aid is equally striking. In answer to a silly coxcomh, who was boasting of his mothers beauty in order to claim ( par droit de naissance) sum- lar personal attractions for himself, Taileyrand answered, C~tait donc M. v6tre p~re, qui netait pas si bien. We wish that Lord Holland, who possessed more opportunities than any other man for collecting and stringing these conversational pearls, had been more diligent in so agreeable a vocation. We may add two anecdotes from mem- ory, which we are not quite certain to have seen in print. The name of a man of rank in France, who, before the Restoration, had taken great pride in his relationship to Napoleon, heing mentioned in society, some one present asked whether he was really a kinsman of the emperor~ Autrefois, Gui; it present, Non ! was the significant reply. As an example to show how readily the same powers were applied to the lighter as well as the graver subjects of discussion, we give another anecdote, which originated in a London salon. An attractive lady of rank having made some ineffectual attempts to en~ age Talleyrand in conversation, as a last effort required his opinion of h~r gown. He opened his eyes, surveyed his handsome questioner from her bust to her ankles, and then~examining the robe in question, observed, with entire gravity, Madame, dIe commence trop tard, et dIe finit trop tdt. We must not omit one of the very best of his sayings, as preserved by Lord Holland in this volume. Having given up the intimacy of the distinguished daughter of Neckar for that of a certain Madame Grand, who neither possessed attractiveness of wit or of conversation, Talleyrand justified his change by observing, Ii faut avour aimd Madame de Stadi, pour connaitre tout Ic bonheur daimer une bate. Never were two mistresses so transfixed by one shaft. It did not come from Loves quiver. It is much to be regretted that so many of Tal- leyrands happiest replies have been lost. They merit being preserved in a more appropriate depos- itory than in the dialogue, however lively, of Bertrand and Raton, or in the fugitive literature of the day. We are aware of what a delicate nature is wit. It bears transport as little as the precious Mangosteen, or those wines which lose their flavor if taken beyond their native vineyard. It loses much from want of its original entourage. It is essentially dramatic in its nature, and cannot be transmitted with effect through the coarse medium of printers ink. This was, however, less the case with Talleyrand than with most others of the class; and from his political position, and fire nature of the subjects with which he dealt, our loss is pro -portionally great. We know not whether it is to Talleyrand that we are to attribute Lord Hollands inclination to pronounce more favorably on the character of lEgal- itd, than his contemporaries have done, whatever their shades of opinion. We are not informed on what grounds we can assume that no man has been more calumniated than the Duke of Orleans, or will be niore misrepresented to posterity. (P. 21.) Lord Holland admits that his habits were far from respectable. This is surely taking us a likeness in miniature. M. Thiers is bolder; he describes Egahitd as livrd aux mauvaises rnomrs, il avait abusd de toiis les dons de Ia nature et de Ia fortune. A man who would select Laclos as secretary to vouch for his morals, and Danton as a pledge for his politics, gave evidence that les liaisons dangereuses might exist in other matters than in gallantry. This, and his associat.ion with the bloody crew of the Montagnards, might dispose of his public and private character. Lord Holland admits, that there is reason to suspect that the persons interested in keeping up the influence of the Duke of Orleans were agents in the revolutions of the 10th August arid 2d September, 1792; and that the only party which showed the least disposi- tion to connect itself with him, were a portion (if those to whose language arid mauccoyres the horrors of that last day are mainly attributed. (P. 29.) This, surely, is conclusive. We cannot for one nioment accept, in palliation of his vote comidenining Louis XVI. to death, the suggestion that he could not have saved the king by voting against his death, but that lie, more than any one else in the Assembly, would have accelerated his own death by so doing. (P. 32.) This plea involves a principle which would justify weakness and crime in almost all cases. We need only look to the proc~s verbal of the Assembly, to see that his vote, whatever might have been its unworthy motive, created a sensation of horror, even in the Assembly itself. He voted twice. First against the appeal to the people, which was proposed with a view of giving to the unfortunate king one additional chance of escape. The second vote was for Iris deaththe most wanton and savage act even of revolutionary times. In br5th cases his vote was unotivi, and characteristic of all his base selfishrness. The record informs us, that, in voting agaimrst the appeal, he said, Je ne moc- cope que de mon devoir. Je dis, Non. He spoke mnrore fully still in favor of death : Uniquement occupd de mon devoir, convaincu que tous ceux qui ont attentd on attenteront par ha suite it ha souver- aintd do people, mdritenrt ha mortje vote pour ha mort. Is it ~vonderful that this should have been followed by a sourd mur/nure? (Hist. ParI., vol. xxiii., p. 144.) The justification of his treason, suggested by Lord Holland, is likewise sanctioned by the observations of M. Thiers omr the trial and execution of the Duke of Orleans. Obhigd de se rendre supportable aux Jacobins on de pdrir, le due pronon~a ha niort de somi parent, et retourna it sa place an milieu de lagitation causde par son vote. * * * Le plus profond et he plus volontaire abaisse.. ment ne pouvait ni calmer les ddfiances ni conjurer ldchaffaud. (Thiers, vol. ii., p. 357.) Lord Holland does mint profess much acquaintance withr the northern or the German courts. He does full credit, however, to the character of the great Count Bernstorff, and forcibly describes that steady moderation which enabled him to continue strong in consistency, and which protected him from the necessity of adopting, like so many other contempo- raneous statesmen, that pliancy of principle, for which history will withhold from their excesses in prosperity, the honorable excuse of fanaticism, and from their sufferings in adversity, the grace and dignity of martyrdom. (P. 56.) Under his wise administration Denmnark prospered, and Lord Hol- land is fully justified in stating, that ~ commerce and agriculture of the country advanced, the people were relieved from feudal burthens which oppressed them; tranquillity was preserved, justice purely administered, amid the foreign policy conducted in a nranner creditable and even glorious. (P. 53.) This is the more remarkable when it is considered that at this time the king was in a state of childish- ness approaching to insanity. Papers requirimug the sign manual were laid before him rather as a medical prescription, to occupy his mind, than as a function of royalty. Meantime, so jealous was 32 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. he of his own rights, that finding a paper had been signed by the crown prince in anticipation, and before it had been submitted for his own signature, on the next occasion when called on for the sign manual, to the surprise and consternation of the courtiers, he signed as Christian 4 Co.; observing that. though once the sole proprietor of the firm, as he now discovered that he was reduced to be a partner only, he wished to save his associates the trouble of adding their names. (P. 51.) At Paris, where it was the fashion to undervalue the intelli- gence of the Scandinavian race, it had been once reported, with witty malice, that a Danish traveller, on being asked what was the cordon hleu of Den- mark, answered, Monsieur, le Saint Esprir do roi mon maitre, est un Elephant, alluding to the first otder of Danish knighthood. An anecdote given us by Lord Holland serves to prove that even in the case of their sovereign, Frederick VI., as well as in that of Christian, the spirit of wit might still occasionally inspire the heavy animals of the Baltic. The partition of the States of Europe was regulated at the Congress of Vienna by the number of souls or inhabitants within the ceded States. The King of Denmark, as we know, was no gainer by these changes. On taking his leave at Vienna, the emperor assured him kindly of the universal regard and respect which he had acquired. Pen- dant v6tre s6jour ici vdtre Majest6 a gagn6 tous les cuiurs. Mais pas une seule ame, was the ready but reproachful rejoinder. We should have wished to have heard more of the Danes. We have ever felt a respect for these English of the North, as they are called; a title which ~ve feel more than ever willing to concede to them at a time when there can be no question concerning their patriotism and courage, whatever difference of opinion may exist between diplomatists and the German people concerning the merits of the cause in which these noble virtues have been exhibited. The warm partiality which Lord Holland felt at all times for Spain and the Spaniards, is fully shown by the attention he has paid to the Court of Madrid, its princes, and its statesmen. This par- tiality was natural in the biographer and critic of the great dramatist of Castile; in one who had himself not only gathered, but transplanted to our English soil some of the sweetest flowers of the Vega. So disposed was lie to praise all that was Spanish, that we recollect well hearing him address to a French military diplomatist an energetic pane- gyric on the prowess of the Spanish armies. When defeated in his argument, as his friends had been in their battles, Lord Holland closed by saying, At least you must confess that no troops in Europe can make such marches as the Spaniards. True, replied the Frenchman, provided they are marching in retreat. This reply was conclu- sive, arid the conversation dropped. Undis,uised as was Lord Hollands partiality, he could not, however, create patriots, heroes, or philosophers out of the materials before him in the Spanish Royal Collection. We may be assured, indeed, by our guide, that we are under the gilded roofs of Madrid or Aranjuez. But the manners and morals to which we are introduced seem below those of the most wretched Yenta, and the food to which we are condemned is an olla, in which rancid oil and garlic predominate. The judgment on the female character passed by Charles III., in reply to the confiding simplicity of his son, is better given in the original language than in our own Carlos, Carlos, que tonto que eres. Todas, si todas, son cccLiX. LIVING AGE. VOL. xxix. 3 putas. (P. 73.) This seems well-founded on Spanish royal experience, for we find little in the social state and individual characters painted by Lord Holland, at variance with this sweeping de- nunciation. Nor was this corruption confined to the private life of the great. Its influence extended to affairs of state; and ministers seem to have been chosen on the same grounds on which we are In- formed by Juvenal ihat bequests were ma1le in Imperial Rome. Lience the most stupendous ignorance is exhibited even 1~y ministers of some natural shrewdness of capacity. Lord holland assures us, on conclusive authority, (P. 135,) that in documents coming from the office of the Prince of the Peace, then lbreign minister, the Hanseatie towns, Villas Hanseauicas, were often designated Is/as Asia/icas. He adds, that he was assured that the same Godoy was for some time at the head of the foreign affairs before he discovered Prussia and Russia to be different countries, being led into this mistake by an economical arrangement, which in- duced the two courts to club for an ambassador. Yet, with these disqualifications, Godoy continued the ruler of Spain for years. Though ignorant of many things, he was so far consciotis of his own deficiencies as at times to select his instruments of government with discretion. To him Jovellanos and Saavedra, both considerable men, owed their first elevation. Lord Holland, on the whole, seems to have considered Godoy friendly to Eng- land, having entered into office on anti-Galhicaut principles. But constancy and good faith were not the attribtites of his time or class. When promoted to the rank of prince, a right was conferred on him by patent to hear before him, on all solemnities, a~ golden image of Janus; and this santo Iddio a due faccie was not an inapt emblem of his policy and that of too many others of greater pretension. The ignorance of Godoy was at least equalled by the coarseness of his royal master, Charles IV., who is-justly described as brutal, silly, and cred- ulous, (P. 142.) On discovering the treachery of his 50fl Ferdinand, which amounted nearly to trea- son, his digtified reply to the prince of the Asturias, protestations of innocence was, Tii mientes, Fer- nando, tti mientes ; y tti me lo pagarfts, si, Fer- nando, tti me In pagar6~s ! The dismissal or retirement of Spanish ministers of state appears at times accompanied with forms. unknown in our colder regions. The disgraced minister is said to be jubilado, or regaled,~ as Lord Holland translates it. We know not whether Mr. Fox ~vould have applied the term juhilado to his dismissal in 1783, or Lord Sid- mouth to his overthrow in 1804. Nor do we be- lieve that the latter, however orthodox, would have felt his resignation more palatable if, like Jovella- nos, he had been placed in strict ecclesiastical; custody, and been condemned to study his catechismA daily. (P. 106.) It is interesting, and in some respects instructive,.. to find how often in these pages proofs recur of the~ barbarous policy of our Roman Catholic penal code. Every one Conversant with the modern military history of Spain, observes Lord holland, or with good society in that country, cannot but be stritek with the large proportion of their eminent officers who were either born or descemided front those who were born in Ireland. (P. 794 OReilly, who rejected all the offers of Marshal Laudon, made to him when prisoner of war, to in- duce him to engage in the imperial service, (p. 79,) had been a young Irish adventurer. OTar~~ 33 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. rel is classed by Lord Holland as one of the leaders of the enlightened party which proposed to itself, by providing against political abuses, to raise Spain in the rank of European States. Blake, though admitting his mala estrella, is considered by Lord Holland an accomplished soldier, and as exercising great influence over his troops. (P. 155.) His military work was praised by General Foyno mean authority. Blakes wife took refuge at Plymouth after the capture of Coruija. She considered herself neglected by our government, which confirmed all the jealousy against England which her husband derived from his Irish origin. Of ODonnel (Abishal) Lord Holland speaks less favorably: He retained more of the nation from which he sprang, than of that in which he was born and educated to arms. He showed greater talent, and had more success, than all the other Spanish generals; but he was un- steady, intemperate, and unreasonable, and regard- less of trnth and character. (P. 159.) It would, however, be most unjust if, from what we have written and extracted, we were understood to suggest or to countenaiice the supposition that Spain, at the period described by Lord Holland, did not produce, or that it does not now contain, men of those noble and manly endowments, and of that chivalrous sense of honor and patriotism, which form the genuine Castilian. We hope and believe that such men do exist at present. That there were many such in the times described by Lord Holland is proved by the pages before us. Of these Melehor de Jovellanos was a bright example; and we feel great pleasure in extracting Lord Hol- lands description of his character, which is not only interesting in itself, but affords a good speci- men of Lord Hollands style Jovellanos dis- tinguished himself at an early period of life by his literary productions in verse and prose, his taste in the arts, and his exteiisive knowledge in all braiiches of political economy. Great as Were his intellectual endowments, his moral qualities were in unison with them. The purity of ~iis taste was of a piece with that of his mind ; an dth e correct- ness of his language a picture of his well regulated life. In the persuasive smoothness of his elo- quence, and the mild dignity of his demeanor, one seemed to read the serenity of his temper and the elevation of his character. (Pp. 90, 91.) Yet this man was condenined to the dungeons of Majorca! Another distinguished man was, like Jovellanos, a native of the Asturias. Augustin Arguelles was an early visitor to England; he had acquired a knowledge of our language and literature, very un- common among the natives of the Peninsula; yet he was jealous of our country, of its foreign policy, and even of our great captain, to whom Spain owed its deliverance. His unblemished integrity and rare disinterestedness were exhibited to the very close of his life, when, as we believe, he declined receiving the large income allotted to the high office which he filled near the present Queen of Spain during her minority. He had to sustain se- vere trials both of prosperity and of misfortune; and perhaps it was to the former he yielded, and fell a victim. He was tempted by the intoxication of popular applause, and he did not always use for the best purposes the almost unlimited ascendancy granted to him in the Cortes. The proceedings of that body were often unwise, and sometimes unjust. But after Arguelles had undergone the cruelties inflicted by Ferdinand; after a confinement of eighteen months in an unwholesome prison at Madrid; after his subsequent imprisonment in an African fortresshe sought and found an asylum in a country where his consistency of priu~iple., firmness of spirit, and austerity of virtue ii1 public and in private, were justly appreciated. In this country we have reason to know that the great commander towards whom, in the palmy days of political triumph, Arguelles had expressed jealousy and niistrust, hail opportunities, of which he availed himself, of marking his discriminating kindness to the political exile, and in contributing to his hap- piness and contentment. This notice of some of the great and noble Spaniards would he indeed incomplete if all men- tion were omitted of one as well known and de- servedly valued in our home circles as he had been our battle fields. The nobler characteristics of the Spanish race were never more appropriately represented than by Alava. The friend and asso- ciate of Wellington, he was worthy of that hugh distinction. He appreciated it, as much as he did his name of Spaniard. He spoke of his great commander with a devoted tenderness which seemed only next to the love he bore his country, and his young queen. Lord Holland was well qualified to appreciate his character, which, as he describes it, and as we recollect it, in niany points resembled his own. Alava, he tells us, (p. 159,) was impetuous in temper, a[id heedless in conversation; but yet so honest, so natural, so cheerful, and so affectionate, that the most reserved man could scarcely have given less offence than he who com- manded the respect of so many by his intrepid openness arid sincerity. We may add two anec- dotes of Alava, which are highly characteristic, and which will, to most of our readers, be new. Sitting at table near a member of Lord Greys government, and heartily expressing his approval of a branch of policy theuu under discussion, he sod- denly turned round and exclaimed, with all the ve- hemence of the South, But you must not think I can ever prefer this government to the Duke of Wellingtonit is he whom I love ! At a later period, when about to take leave of England, he visited a private family, where he had been received in the most familiar intimacy. For one of the young ladies of that family the o!d soldier and min- ister had always manifested an affectionate and parental regard. He took leave with emotion. Returning from the door to repeat his farewell, he, for the last time, addressed his favorite : You are good, you are young; your prayers will be heard; let me entreat you, for my sake, when you kneel to God, never forget a prayer for my queen. But we must close this subject, and pass to the last which calls for our attention. In the earlier part of this article, we noticed two particularities which, though they add to the force and graphic interest of Lord Hollands Heminis- cences, have a tendency to impair that calmness and impartiality which are indispensable requisites in a historian. We pointed out his irrepressible, but somewhat indiscriniinating, sympathy for mis- fortune; and his readiness to receive with undue favor all evidence tendered on behalf of the cause, or the persons, who interested his feelings. Both these influences seem to have been brought into play in dealing with the character of Napoleon. We do not believe that Lord Holland would him- self have denied that this portion of his work was so far written with a bias, that his inclination was to convey a favorable impression of one whom he 34 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. deemed the greatest man in Europe. We do not mean to suggest that this is done at any unworthy sacrifice. Lord Holland never seeks to palliate the cruelty of Napoleon in the murder of the Duke dEnghein. On the contrary, he affirms that no discovery that he can conjecture can efface the stain that guilt left on the French government. (P. 225.) Nor does he condescend to give the weight of his authority to that most absurd of all delusions, which holds up to mankind the military ruler of France as the friend of civil liherty or of popular rights. Though called by Pitt the child and champion of Jacobinism, Napoleon never exhib- ited any filial duty towards his parent; against whom, on the contrary, he was ready at all times to enter the lists and to do battle. It is true that in the early stages ot his life he spoke revolution- ary language, and assumed the republican garb. In so doing he bent to necessity, spoke the vulgar tongue, and wore the habit of the day. Nor could he otherwise have risen to powergreat as was his ambition, and commanding as was his genius. His earliest tendencies were, in truth, towards author- ity and despotism. Even at the age of eighteen, his dreams led him to calculate whether, with an army of 2000 men, he could not have made himself the principe or ruler of Italy. (P. 210.) If in his youth he had embraced any democratic con- victions, his own testimony establishes that they were soon cast aside. We doubt whether they were ever strongly rooted. Lord Holland informs us that, by Napoleons own account of himself, it was in Egypt lie weaned his mind from the re- publican illusions in which his early youth had been nursed. Those who knew him well assured me that the scenes of the Revolution had estranged and even disgusted him with democracy; he checked every tendency to revive in France, or produce elsewhere, any excesses of that nature, from a conviction that the evil created by them was positive and certainthe ultimate good to be de- rived from them, uncertain and problematical. (P. 257.) During the hundred days, whatever approach he made towards l)oPUlar principles, he made under compulsionand it is unquestionable that he hated, and perhaps despised, the doctrinaires and philosophers with whom he was at that time reduced to make terms, regarding them as much his personal enemies, as the Allied Sovereigns themselves. Count Moh~ assured Lord Holland, on the authority of Napoleon himself, that Napo- leon felt great apprehensions lest the Republicans should prevail ~ and he acknowledged that had he but foreseen how much of compliance with the democratic party would have been required, he never would have left Elba. (P. 303.) We have dwelt upon this, because the absurdity of connect- ing the name of Napoleon Bonaparte with the cause of libertythough recognized as such by rational menis not admitted by the fanatical and the ignorant, at home or abroad. It appears to us the most irrational of all attempts at imposture in hero-worship. If there be a class who are desirous of raising temples to such a divinity, let them do so on the ground of his military genius and achievements. Lord Holland admits that the evidence on which he writes was, in the strongest sense of the word, ex parte. We do not mean that it was therefore inadmissible. Our objections go more to the credit than to the competency of his witnesses. Lord Holland describes this portion of his work to be no more than a transcript of some hasty and rain- bling notes taken on receiving the news of Napo- leons death in 1821. (P. 187.) The generous attention and kindness which both Lord and Lady Holland ha~d shown to the captive of St. Helena, in supplying his many wants and lessening the inevitable trials of his seclusion, were well known and justly appreciated throughout Europe. This kindness on their part, as we learn, introduced them to the society of those who openly professed, or sincerely felt, most veneration for Napoleon ; and we are informed, that it was from the conver- sation of these parties that Lord Hollands notes were taken. We confess we cannot but feel some mistrust of this information not so much from a suspicion that it was the intention of Lord Hol- lands informants to mislead, as from the inevitable and justifiable consequences of their respect, grati- tude, and affection for one, who, having been their monarch and their hero, was finally raised to the higher dignity of being made their martyr. We do not therefore feel surprise, if, forewarned against such influences, we are driven to refuse our assent to some few of the judgments of Lord Hol- land. We are, perhaps, cold and phlegmatic, and too fearful lest any false enthusiasm should carry us astray. Lord Holland condemns, as cruel and ungenerous, the confinement of Napoleon at St. Helena. In this we cannot concur. As to the want of those courtesies and attentions which might have alleviated his imprisonment without endanger- ing his safe custodythe petty torments and morti- fications, the limitations imposed on his supply of books and necessaries, the refusal of a barren title to one who had ruled and conquered half the terri- tories of Europe, and ~vith whom we had not only fought but negotiatedall this ~vas inexcusable. There was exhibited, throughout, a wretched and pitiful meanness, as well as a want of common feeling, disgraceful to all concerned. But that Napoleon should have been subjected to such restraints as were indispensable to his safe custody, was due to the best interests of mankindmore especially after his escape from Elba had proved how undeserving he was of further confidence. Lord Holland, indeed, justifies this breach of treaty obligations, by an assertion made, on the authority of an anonymous witness, that the removal of Napoleon to St. Helena had already been started and discussed at the Congress of Vienna. It is not suggested that any resolution to this effect had ever been adopted. A supposed negotiation be- tween our government and the East India govern- ment, to place St. Helena under the control of the crown, is relied upon in evidence of the participa- tion of England in this design. No such negotia- (ion is proved. Nor was it in any respect requisite, even for the imputed purpose. St. Helena con- tinued under the authority of the company during the whole of Napoleons captivity, and for ten or twelve years after his death. It was only on the last renewal of the East India Companys charter that the island was transferred to the crown. It is true than an act of Parliament was then judged to be necessary to give legality to his detention and to authorize his treatment as a prisoner of war. With this view the 56 Geo. IlJ. c. 22 was passed. In the statute passed concurrently for regulating the intercourse with St. Helena, (c. 24,) there was a clause specially saving the commercial rights of the East India Company; but no assent of that corJ)ora- tion seems to have been given or required. Lord Brougham, then a member of the House of Com- mons, stated his belief that on the occasion of 35 36 FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. securing the safe custody of the person of Napo- peace wh~1st the Corsican sat in the kings gate, leon opinions would be almost unanimous ; and still less when he was the superior of kings them- he added, in a subsequent explanation, that no selves. He therefore felt that the war must come, term could be put to his imprisonment, except and that it was better to meet it before peace had under circumstances which it was impossible to unnerved his army, and destroyed his means of at- anticipate. (Parl. Debates, vol. xxx., pp. 210, tack and defence Ill faut dailleurs, he ob- 211.) Thus the whole hypothesis resorted to for served, larmdeles g6n~raux ; and he feared the purpose of excusing a violation of engagement he might lose both by a protracted peace. With- falls to the ground an(l the naked fact remains out stopping to examine to what extent this that the prisoner of Elba had disregarded his sacred hostile spirit existed on the continent of Eu- obligationsand that, unless effectual measures rope, it may be doubted whether the feelings were resorted to, rendering a second breach of and wishes of the government, the legislature, and faith impossible, a second escape or an attempt to the people of England warranted the belief which escapewith all its calamities to Europewas far Napoleon expressed to his philosophic counsellor, rrom improbable. Gallois: LAngleterre veut absolument Ia guerre. A most curious method of raising the supplies Elle laura. lie was probably much inure truth- was resorted to by Napoleon to meet the expenses fiil when he added, quant h moi jen suis of outfit fur the great Italian campaign. It has ravi. (P. 234.) One of the weaknesses ofNapo- been justly considered a mere vulgar error, to leon was his sensibility to the abuse contained in ascribe to chance events of which we are unable to the English journals. What Lord holland terms state a sufficient cause. But in this instance we the scurrility of the newspapers, (p. 232,) at find that chance, in the strictest sense of the word, that period created a constant irritation in the mind was the cause of events the most important. It of Napoleon, and contributed to accelerate and em- appears that the Directory was unwilling, or unable, bitter the rupture between the two countries. to supply their general with the sum he required (P. 263.) Mounier, and his twelve clerks, em- for himself and his personal staff. After drawing ployed to abridge and translate from our daily on the funds and on the generosity of his friends, papers all the paragraphs pointed against the em- he resorted to Junot, then a young officer, and a peror and his family, must have furnished him with frequenter of the tables of play. Napoleon confided an abundance of means to perform his function of a to him all the money he had collected, to which self-tormentor. How great a mistake was it to Junot added the price of his own silver-hilted consider that the public journals of the day neces- sword. He was directed by his commander to risk sarily spoke the sense of the people, or implied the the wholeto lose or so to increase it as to enable assent and approval of Parliament or of tIme minis- the Italian expedition to be undertaken. He was try! But the whole course of these events proves promised as a reward the appointment of aide-de- how great a responsibility rests upon journalists. camp. Junot won an amount far beyond his ex- In discussions on foreign policy, these writers are pectation ; but on reporting his success he was freed from direct or legal responsibility, yet from ordered by his employer to return and try his for- their own desks they possess, and sometimes tune once moreto double or to lose the entire exercise, the power of kindling angry passion suni. Fortune was again favorable. A sum of which can only be extinguished in blood. Napo- three hundred thousand francs was won: the jour- leon either did not know, or would not admit, that ney was accomplished, the command assumed, and the feelings as well as the interests of England the splendid victories (if the campaign of ltaly en- were eminently pacific. We believe them to be sued. Thus, perhaps, the crown of the Ca~sars still more so at present. may be said to have depended on the cast of a die, In an article like the present it would be out of and the independence of the Pope to have been the place to enter at any length upon the political result of drawing grande ou petite figure. (P. career of Bonaparte ; nor dues Lord Holland do so, 217.) Never has there been another game played probably, for the same reason. Some of his state- for so mighty a stake. ments are, however, so important, that it is impos- It is almost as curious a fact to learn, on the sible to pass them over. Talleyramids judguient authority of Murveldt, the minister who negotiated on the errors which his master had committed the peace of Camopo Formio, that, even after Napo- belongs to history: He committed three capital leon had signed th~t treaty, contrary to his in- faults, the diplomatist observed, and to them structions, thus giving a. signal proof of his self- his fall, scarce less extraordinary than his elevation, reliance, lie should have been offered by Austria a is to be ascribedSpain, Russia, and the Pope. safe retreat and a small principality in Germany. (P. 317.) To these Lord Holland justly adds, (P. 242.) How little it could then have been the neglect of making peace after the victories anticipated, that the soldier, to whom so paltry a of Liitzen and Bautzemm in 1813. This last error bribe was tendered, should within a few short years was admitted by Napoleon in conversation with be the victor at Austerlitz, should plant his eagles Mr. Fazakerly: Je me croyais assez fort pour no on the walls of Vienna, and become the son-in-law pas faire Ia paix, et je me suis trompd ; sans cel~. of the emperor! cdtait assurement le moment de faire Ia paix. It is difficult to decide how far it could have been (P. 319.) We are inclined to think that lie also possible by any course of British policy to have committed a similar error at a later time. Even at maintained the peace of Amiens. M. Gallois, who, Chatillon, in 1814, though he must then have sub- from his ability and his honorable independence, muitted to conditions far less favorable than in the w~s worthy of being consulted by his sovereign, previous years, he might have preserved, by peace, gave his opinion frankly: England might have an imperial crown, and possibly have transniitted done more to preserve peace, but France has not to his offspring a noble inheritaiice. Mignet con- done all she could to obtain it. (P. 233.) Napo- siders that the sacrifice required at that time leon must have felt the insecurity of his position was too great to have been acquiesced in by Napo- arising from the jealousy and hatred of the conti- leon or by France. Lord Holland, who had seen niental sovereigns. They could hardly sleep in the official papers of Caulincourt, expresses his FOREIGN REMINISCENCES. confidence in the integrity and pacific intentions of that negotiator ; he admits, however, that he traced in the conduct of Napoleon an intention of not only violating faith with the Allies, hut, in case of need, of disavo~ving and sacrificing the honor of the minister who was serving his country with zeal, talent, and fidelity. (P. 296.) This is a strong condemnation from Lord unhand, and it seems deserved; Napoleon evidently felt it difficult to justify, or even to account for, his conduct. We have reason to believe from other sources of in- form tion, that when asked by Captain Usher why lie had not made peace at Chatillon, after some in- conclusive assertions of the faithlessness of his enemies, he ended by saying, et dailleurs javais de lhumeur ! The judgments on the French character pro- nounced by Napoleon give us some insight into his mode of government: Le Fran9ais aime l~galit6, mais il ne se soucie pas beaucoup de Ia libertd, was an observation made at Elba to the present Lord Fortescue. Therefore it was that he gave to France the benefit, and to the world the example, of the Code Napoh~on, and yet never ventured, till he was under duress, to make any real approach towards free institutions. He con- demns the Directory, parcequils ne savent rien faire juner limaginamion de Ia nation. (P. 243.) He himself therefore endeavored, in all things and at all cost, to dazzle and to astonish. His attention to the corps of sevens who accompanied him to Egypt was intended to react on public opinion, through the press, and literature. The French soldiery do not seem to have participated in the respect of their commander for this learned corps. On the contrary, the philosophers, prosecuting their march mounted on asses, are said to have heen the object of rather irreverent jests: Voil~. bate dane ! the soldiers exclaimed when they saw a savant, and Voil~ on savant! when they over- took a donkey. The same desire to act on the imagination dictated those songs of triumph, the bulletins of the grand army. A similar experi- ment was made, in his letter to the Prince Regent, when he tried the effects of his scraps from Plu- tarch, and appeared in the character of Themisto- des. In this case he had mistaken his man: On the impassive ice the lightuings played. All that seems to have been noticed by George IV. in this memorable letter was, that he had begun it accord- ing to etiquette. Altesse Royale,an observa- tion somewhat trivial, but not the less character- istic. Lord Holland denies that Napoleon ever actually embraced the faith of Islamism, or affected to do so. But he conformed to many Mahometan ceremonies; and in some of his public documents and interviews he adopted a form of speech savor- ing of the Koran and of the East. This again was pour faire jouer limagination. With the same object of producing a startling effect, and to obtain power or reputation under false pretences, Napoleon condescended to resort to the vulgar process of what in our university life is called cramming,a process not unknown, we believe, either to kings or statesmen. Visiting Caen with Maria Louise, and a train of crowned heads and princes, the prefect, an old friend, hav- ing supplied him with statistical tables of the provinces, he observed, Cest bon; vous et moi ferons bien de lesprit I~i dessus, demain ao con- seil. Accordingly he astonished the landed pro. prietors by his minute knowledge of the prices of good and bad cider, and other produce. (P. 315.) There was, however, no necessity for any affecta- tiun or artifice on the part of Napoleon, as re- garded accuracy and knowledge of detail, in many or perhaps in most eases. He exhibited to some of our officers at Elba a practical acquaintance with nautical affairs which amazed them. His inquiries were unceasing, and, from the nature of them, must have led in some instances to oufiatter- ing replies. When on hoard the Undaunted he saw the crew breakfasting on the best cocoa, an article which at that time ~vould have been a luxury to the most delicate Parisian beauty How long have your seamen had this allow- ance I he asked of Capt. IJsher. lirom the commencement of your Imperial Majestys conti- nental system, was the answer. Napoleon was silenced. We have had ourselves further evidence of the minute accuracy of his knowledge. A very gallant Irish officer commanded a small vessel of war off Elba. Invited to the Emperors table, his host asked his birth-place. On finding that he came from the banks of the Shannon, Graude et belle fleuve que votre Shannon ! observed the Emperor. But, he added, it is ill-defended. Your seaward roadstead is at a place called Far- bert. Your batteries are commanded. I could have landed my troops out of reach of shot. I could have taken your batteries en revers, amid have thrown your guns (cuibut~) into the sea. What then would have become m~f your vessels lying at anchor and laden with grain for the army in the Peninsula I We give this anecdote on the au- thiority of the gallant officer to whom the remark was addressed, and who by his own local knowl- edge had perfect means of vouching the accuracy of the observation. Talleyrand observes of his master, (p. 317,) II ~tait mal 6h~ve, and had but very little regard for troth. Yet he assures us that Cest incalculable ce quil pmoduisait ; plus qoaucun homme, plus qoaucun qoatre hommes, que jai jamais connu. Son gdnie dtait inconcevable. Rien n~galait son esprit, sa capacit6 de travail, sa facil- it6 de produire. Ii avait de Ia sagacimd aussi. Ce n~tait que rarement que son mauvais judgment lemportait, et c& ait tonjours lorsquil ne s~tait pas dound he tems de consulter celui dautres per- sonnes. (P. 289.) * * * II avait he sen- timent du grand, mais pas du beau. (P. 2004 And accordingly, except in one touching instance, in which, however, his sterner nature ultimately resumed its empire, we see nothing that bespeaks any strength or refinement of feeling. The excep- tional case to which we allude was his interview with Josephine before the divorce. When he represented to her that his family, his ministers, enfin tout le monde, were in favor of a divorce, and concluded by asking, Quen dis tu done? cela sera-t-ih I the reply of the wife was as eloquent and pathetic as love and sorrow could make it: Que veux tu, que jen disc Si tes fr~res, tes ministres, tout he monde, sont contre moi, et il ny a que toi seol pour me d6fendre. * * * Tn nas que moi pour te d6fendre, he exclaimed with emotion: Eh bien! tu lem- porteras. It is a blot ~vhich can never be effaced that he broke this engagement, and brought him- self to cast aside the only tie of real affection which appears to have bound him to humanity. It was in harmony with his character to have rejected the sopphications of the attractive and excellent Queen of Prussia, and to have told her roughly, when she entreated an asylum for her children, 37 THE SLEEPING EUROPEAN VOLCANO. that Magdeburg was worth one hundred queens. But to have thrown off the woman who had been his faithful and devoted companion in his early struggles, and during all the vicissitudes of his varying fortunes, showed a hardness of nature which we cannot pardon. He seems, indeed, to have been conscious of this. To M. Gallois he said, Je naime pas beaucoup Ics femmes, ni Ic jeu; enjin rien; je suis tout ~ fait un ~tre poli- tique. With our habits and feelings, and with examples before us drawn from our own tune, we cannot persuade ourselves that, in order to consti- tute the character of a happy statesman, any more than that of a happy warrior, it is neces- sary that the affections and sympathies should be blunted or extinguished. Elevation of mind is inconsistent with any such unnatural sacrifices, and without elevation of mind true political great- ness cannot exist. Lord Holland gives us some insight into the intellectual pursuits of Napoleon. He was fond of French tragedy, which he loved to read aloud. We cannot agree that, because he admired Zaire, he must therefore have admired the other works of Voltaire. On the contrary, we think that the use to which he had turned the pen of Gcoffroy, in furnishing replies to the Encyclopedists, and par- ticularly to him whom we cannot join Lord Hol- land in calling, the great and calumniated philoso- pher of Ferney, was founded upon a real dislike. There was an antagonism between the genius of the two men; and the esprit moqueur of Vol- taire must have been essentially antagonistic to one who, like Napoleon, was familiar with the stern realities of life. He condemned Rousseau unreservedly. A conversation reported by Lord Holland to have taken place between Napoleon and Stanislas Girardin is full of interest. C~tait un m~chant homme, cc Rousseau. Sans lui Ia France navait pas en de r6volution. To an ob- servation made by Girardin, that he had not been before aware that Napoleon considered the Revolu- tion so unmixed an evil, Napoleon replied, Ah vous vonlex dire, que sans Ia r6volntion vous ne maurez pas en. Peut-~trejc le croismais aussi la France neen .serait elle que plus heureuse! His favorite studies towards the close of his life were French tragedy, the Odyssey, and the Bible. We are informed that he had not been previously very conversant with the Old Testament, and that he was surprised and delighted, provoked and di- verted at the sublimity and beauty of some pas- sages, and what appeared to him the extravagance and absurdity of others. (P. 306.) There seems to have been in his mind a strange combination of religious convictions with thoughts of a different nature. The former appear to have predominated, and to have acquired strength, as he advanced in life, and experienced misfortune. At Fontaineblean he stated as a final reason against suicide Je ne suis pas enti~rement dtranger h des id~es r~ligiens- es. He refused to admit the administration of the Holy Sacrament as part of the ceremonial of his ~ioronation, because he considered that no other roan had a right to say when or where he (Napo- leon) would take the Sacrament, or whether he would take it or not. It is singular that he should have entertained this feeling some years before the British Parliament relieved the most religious country in Europe from the disgrace and impiety of the sacramental test. The imperial eaptive in his latter moments was not likely to have derived much guidance or consolation from the two Roman Catholic ecciesiastics who formed part of his establishment. Perhaps they were sent in vengeance for the Popes imprisonment at Fontaine- blean. They were so utterly ignorant that one of them described Alexander the Great as the most fortunate of Roman generals. We have not suffi- cient means provided in this work, or elsewhere, to enable us to decide whether his mind did ulti- mately embrace a full religious conviction, and whether in his decaying strength he was supported by religions consolations. We are willing to be- lieve what we earnestly desire. If he died a Christian, we may most truly add, in the verses of Mauzoni pi ii superba ahtezza Al disonor del Golgota Giammai non ii china. We now close this article, which has been pro- tracted beyond our proposed limits. But we have found the intrinsic interest and importance of the book increase as we proceeded. We approached our task with much curiosity, and with most favor- able anticipations. We have read the volume with gratification, and with instruction. We have pointed out where we differ. We have done so respectfully, but with freedom. We felt ourselves the more authorized to take this course, because the book can well affihrd to abide by the results of ex- amination, and also because, in performing our duty with honest frankness, we are Ibllowing the course that Lord Holland himself would have most approved. THE SLEEPING EUROPEAN VOLCANO. [We have gathered, from the leading papers,articles which are of great interest to the world.] Fron the Morning Chronicle, 17 Feb. IF the proceedings of the Congress of Dresden have hitherto failed to attract in this country the attention which negotiations of such importance might seem to deserve, it is assuredly not from any want of sympathy with the efforts of the German people. It is impossible to be indifferent to the political combinations of the races which ceupy the centre of Europe; and however grttat may have been the disappointment of those who believed that the liberties of Germany would be eventually secured by the revolutions of 1848, yet few would be willing to recognize the failure of the democratic movement as a fait accompli, and to abandon all hopes of the constitutional development of the Ger- man people. Notwithstanding the proverbial indif- ference of an insular people to the politics of the Continent, it is difficult to believe that the events of the last three years have been without their in- fluence upon English opinion, it may be that the faults and shortcomings of the popular party have been exaggerated by hasty criticism, and possibly, in some cases, the rude energy by which anarchy has been suppressed has been extolled as the height of political wisdom. The security of our own political system may have led us to presume too confidently that authority is necessarily founded upon law, and to question the right (if resistance. But in spite of this manifest bias, and of the innumerable exag- gerations which tend further to pervert public opinion, we should be loth to conclude that those who believe in the principles of constitutional government confine to these islands exclusively the application of their political faith. If it were so, it would be a point of selfishness and humiliation 38 THE SLEEPING EUROPEAN VOLCANO. which this country never before attained, under its weakest government or under its most corrupt rulers. There is, however, no foundation for such a supposition. There is still the same wish to de- fend national independence and popular liberty which in former days armed this country against Louis XIV. and against Napoleon; and it may safely be affirmed, that the struggles of the popular party during the recent revolutions, though often unfairly judged, have met with a sympathy not the less sincere for being expressed with calmness and discrimination. And although, so far as the affhirs of Germany are concerned, the difficult complica tions which surround the political questions of that country appear at first sight to defy the most labo- rious criticism, yet it cannot be forgotten that Ger- many is at the present moment the scene of a con- test between the principles of popular right and despotic authority. The events of the last few weeks have only ceased to interest us because they have led to the apparent redstablishment of the principles which were subverted by the revolution, and which were openly disavowed by every govern- ment in Germany. The meagre accounts of the Dresden Conferences which we gather from the continental journals, are sufficient to show how completely have been frus- trated whatever expectations were formed of the Congress of the German States. Nominally sum- moned to revise the Federal Constitution, and to settle the urgent questions which had threatened Germany with civil war, the fanctionaries congre- gated in the Saxon capital have as yet in no respect fulfilled the objects for ~vhich they were assembled. Various schemes have, we are told, been brought forward, with a uniform want of success. The fundamental changes proposed by Austria and Prussia in the mode of administering the affairs of the Confederation, have encountered an active re- sistance from the secondary kingdomsan opppsi- tion which has hitherto proved efficacious, not from any absence of harmony between the two great powers, but because every change which they rec- ommended was received in the spirit of absolut- ism. The reforms which they suggested were in every way opposed to the popular feeling, and, as they failed to obtain the sanction of the petty sovereigns, they were of necessity abandoned. Nothing, therefore, remains but to return to the forms of the Diet, as established by the treaty of Vienna, and the subsequentFederal acts. Suppos- ing, however, the Diet to be permanently rein- stated, it is to be expected that it will be at least as meddlesome and tyrannical as it was under the system of Metternich, inasmuch as the newly-ac- quired energy pf a reactionary government is more reckless and more dangerous than a long-estab- lished and cautious government of repression. There are not wanting indications of the spirit in which it is attempted to regulate the internal affairs of Germany. The Electorate of Hesse, the Grand Duchy of Baden, and the Ilanse Towns have already received Austrian garrisons, which must be ascribed much more to considerations of politics than of strategy. The policy of Vienna seems to consist in making a great military demonstration in the west and north of Germany, so as to completely overawe the democratic party, whose strength lies in those more civilized portions of the Confedera- tion. At the same time, the presence of Prussian troops in these operations reveals the good under- standing which subsists between the two courts. Prince Schwarzenbcrg and M. Manteuffel have had the singular merit of discovering the s~mplest form of government by physical force, and the fine, and chivalrous armies of Austria and Prussia are made the instruments of this most discreditable policy. As yet, these arrangements possess only a temporary character, but, in the rumored pro- posal to create a federal army under the joint direction of Austria and Prussia, we may trace a disposition to persist in the course which has been entered upon. The only object of such an institu- tion would be to serve as a police force in the minor states, to check the development of any opinion hostile to the supremacy of physical force, and to establish military government on the ruins of those constitutions which have hitherto escaped the consequences of the general reaction. There is, indeed, but too much reason to believe that the triumph of the Austrian diplomacy over Prussia, combined with the dangerous influence of Russia, has induced the Court of Vienna to adopt fully, and without reservation, in its domestic as well as in its foreign relations, a system of reaction. If the Confederation remains unaltered in its con- stitution, but is made to include the non-German provinces of Austria and Prussia, it is obvious that. an enormous addition of strength will be given to Austrian, and therefore to absolutist influence, which must at once preponderate in the government of the Confederation from the absence of any coun- tervailing power. Whatever might be the final result, the immediate effect would be the political subjection of the free States cf Germany to the un- intelligent barbarism of Eastern Europe, directed by a Viennese bureaucracy. We do not, indeed, believe that such a system, however sanctioned by treaties, or guaranteed by imperial alliances, would be of long duration. But in the mean time the ac- cession of these Sclavonian populations, by national feeling and tradition inveterately hostile to the Ger- man race, and possessing no other than a purely military organization, would be full of danger to the Confederation. It would immeasurably in- crease the means of aggression possessed by the two governments which the German people have least reason to trust. it is hardly to he anticipated that the other European powers which were co-sig- natories of the treaty of Vienna ~vill readily acqui- esce in a change so immediately affecting the po- litical equilibrium of Europe. It is true that the resources of the Sclavonian crown-lands have been, and may again be, made use of for the defence of Germany, and that they are, to that extent, of advantage to the Confederation; but a political union with these countries would be alike danger- ous, for the time, to the independence and to the civilization of Germany. Whether it is also in- tended to include the Lombardo-Venetian king- dom is more doubtful, for it would completely alter the political relations of a country in which France has always professed an interest, and fol- lowed a distinct policy. It is clear, therefore~, that these points cannot be determined merely as Ger- man questions. Ifwhich we should be unwilling to predictthe plenipotentiaries at Dresden should agree upon these questions, no valid or practical results can be obtained without the approval of those by whose guarantee the present territorial (listribution of Europe subsists. Perhaps it may seem superfluous to speculate upon that which, after all, is but a remote contin- gency. There is, however, no doubt fhat the project is seriously entertained, and that its authors have succeeded in obtaining the support of the 39 4O~ majority of the Congress at Dresden. But if we disre~ard the consideration whether it will ever be carried out or not, it is stilf of some importance as a proof of the influence which predominates in the conferences, whilst the rumors of an expected pro- test from France point to the quarter from which a Serious opposition is anticipated. At the same time the interpretation which we have put upon the proceedings of Austria in Germany is strongly corroborated by the indications of hostility on the part of that power against Switzerland and Pied- monthoth of them popular governments, and, therefore, peculiarly obnoxious to Prince Seliwar- ~tenberg. An intervention is talked of in the case of the former, and an Austrian army is already assembled on the frontiers of the kingdom of Sardinia. The pretext in either case is the samethe danger arising from the presence of political refugees. XVhen such measures are con- templated, and when such threats are held out to independent states, we tnay well fear for the tran- quillity of Europe. The ~vorst revolutionary lead- ers never preached a doctrine more dangerous than that which is practised by the professed friends of order. Could it be successfully applied, it would be more intolerable than anarchy. Happily, the law of progress is independent of the wills of the most determined statesmen. Individual obstinacy or ignorance may create a vast amount of human mis- ery, but they can neither triumph over right nor arrest the political progress of nations. From the Journat des Debats, t5 Feb. THE conference of Dresden is on the point of coming to an important resolutiona resolution which we have foreseen, and which is of the high- est interest to our policy in our relations with Ger- many and with Italy. We think we may affirm that the demand made by Austria to enter into the Germanic confederation with all her Selavonic and Italian possessions, has been consented to by Prus- sia, and even by the greater number of the second- ary states of Germany; and the assent of those which still hesitate will doubtless soon follow. The Emperor of Russia will not oppose this trans- formation of the Germanic confederation, and the protests which France may make, with or without the coperation of England, will not probably stop the definitive adoption of the proposition of the Austrian cabinet. What, however, will France and England do~ In our opinion, in spite of the consent of the middling and the petty states of Ger many, and the adhesion of Russia, they cannot accept purely and simply the new Germanic con- federation as it is now to be organized at Dresden they must claim the maintenance of the law of nations as created by the treaties of 1815, and oppose the interpretation given to those treaties by the two great German powers. The treaties of 1815.laid down the territorial limits of the Ger- manic confederation, as they did those of France. It is not permitted to one, two, three, or more of the powers who signed them to modify them at will. They are a work common to all, and any changes to be made in them most also be a common work. That is a principle which it is essential to maintain. With ree,ard to France and England, moreover, it is not only a question of principle; it also regards the maintenance of their traditional and national policy. The policy of England pre- scribes to her to oppose any decisive preponderance in Italy. The preponderance of Austria will not Buit her any more than that of France. Already, THE SLEEPING EUROPEAN VOLCANO. since 1815, Austria has dominated, or nearly so, beyond the Alps; she rules there by her posses- sions and by her relationship with the Grand Duchy of Tuscany and the Duchy of Modena, and her in- fluence will be materially increased by the admis- sion of her Italian possessions into the Germanic confederation. Can England be satisfied with this! The interest is much greater and more immediate for France; setting aside all question of rival influ- ence, there is here a paramount question of safety. If Italy is politically transformed into a province of the Germanic confederation, it is no longer with Austria alone that France will have to do, in the event of any motive causing an Italian war, but with the whole of Germany; a war on the Alps would necessarily lead to one on the Rhine. This consequence alone is enough to show all its gravity. It is said that the government of the republic pro- tests at Berlin and at Vienna, and it is thought that England is doing as much. Whatever doubts may have arisen on this subject appear to have been removed by recent explanations between the two governments. But what. will be the result of these protests, if it be true, as stated, that Austria and Prussia are resolved to pay no attention to them, and to conclude their new arrangement of tIme con- federation! No one in France can be mistaken ott this point. Austria, befire the revolution of Feb- ruary, would never have undertaken such a scheme, or, if she had attempted it, she would have failed in it. The reason is that France then had a gov- ernment with which Europe knew that she might treat, and to which it would be necessary to give an account. When pretensions of a nature such as those which Austria now raises are put forward, they present numerous difficulties, and affect pow- erful and varied interests. A well-established and well-conducted government knows how to combat those difficulties, and to make apparent the impos- sibility of the success of the pretensions. This un- measured and unnatural extension of the Germanic confederation cannot benefit any power in Europe except Austria. It may secure her rule in Italy, but it cannot secure the peace of Europe, for it changes the balance of power, and may lead to conflicts. When they shall present themselves, will the republic have a government, a policy, and a diplomacy capable of preventing such a perturba- tion I God grant it may! From the Times, 17 Feb. IT is now certain that both France and England have protested against the demand of Austria to the indiscriminate admission of the whole of her pos- sessions into the Germanic Confederatioii. lt is even stated that those two powers have communi- cated notes to the cabinet of St. Petersburg, and that they are making every eflbrt to bring it over to their opinion. The following may be considered as a fair r6s- um6 of the reasons, founded on national law, and alleged by the t~vo powers The Germanic confederation was constituted by the act of the Congress of Viennathat is to say, by all the Europeami powers deliberating and acting in common. Not only were the forms a~nd means of government of the confederation regulated by that act, but also its elementsthat is, the states of which it was composed by attributing to each one a participationt corresponding to its extent arid population. Hemice it follows that the confedera- tion cannot extend itself either wholly or partially, change its limits, or alter its manner of existence, THE SLEEPING EUROPEAN VOLCANO. 41 without such changes being deliberated on in the What now is about to occur is different. French assembly of the same powers that constituted it. influence will be completely effaced in presence of The proof of this is to be found in the fact of the Austria. This inevitable result is, at this moment consent of the Emperor of Russia being denanded. more than at any other period, dangerous to English What reason is there that the consent of the two interests, the authority, the power of Austria, other powers has not been also asked~ being henceforth invincible in italy, strengthened, If we may jud,,e from the language of the nu- as it will be if necessary. by all Cermany. Aus- merous diplomatists at Dresden durittg the confer- tria can offer to Germany a system of industrial and ences, these protests will have 110 influence over the commercial confederation which will open to her resolutions of Austria and Prussia. These last at tile same time ports in the Black Sea, the Med- maintain that the Germanic confederation is a free iterranean, an(l tile Adriatic. It is itripossible to state, independent, like any other; that it has the predict what fatal consequences to the commerce right of extension and of modification, and, conse- of Great Britain may ensue at some future period quently, ~of changing the interior demarcations of not far removed in consequence of such an arratge- its states, of uniting several in onein a word, of merit. doitig whatever best suits it, provided its acts have The consequences of such an arrangement will only reference to its internal organization, without be still more disastrous for France. This power the other European powers having the right to has great need of italy. Italy in the hands of intervene, oppose, or protest; and that the only Austria causes the enfeebling (if France and the thing required is the cunsetit of all tile states (if ruin of her entire secular and national policy. which the confederation is composed~ This pre- Austria will in fine drive France from beyotld the tension is founded on the 14th article of the final Alps, and French influence will be forever de- act of tile Congress of Vienna. It is alleged that stroyed in Italy. It becomes necessary for her to if Austria and Prussia have communicated their adopt a resolution. And remark well tile skill projects to the Emperor of Russiaif they have displayed by Austria in her plans. By incorporat- asked his advice or consulted with him, it is only a itig Italy with the Germanic confederation she simple act of courtesy, of which neither England deprives France of all possibility of recovering that nor France has any right to avail herself. That act influence which she will have titus lost. Franc~ of courtesy was due to the emperor from gratitude can no longer declare war against Austria without for the services he has rendered to Germany by his having a w~r at the same tinie with the Germanic intervetitioti in the dissensions which divided the confederation. If she makes an attack against two great powers; and, it is asked, is it not to that Italy, she must at the same time defend herself on intervention that Europe owes the maintenance of the Rhine. Austria consequently strikes a blow peace which even so recently was on the point of against France from which she can never recover. being disturbed l But France has only to blame herself. She agi- The general opinion also is, that the efforts of tated all Etirope by her revolution of February in England will have no influence in changing the 1848; she disturbed Italy and Germany. Ger- decisions of the Emperor Nicholas. These two Irtany, restored to (irder, is establishing herself in governments enjoy, it is feared, but little influence Italy, and is making such an arrangement as will at St. Petersburg. Whether justly or otherwise, render her secure against France and her revolu- it is too true that Lord Palmerston is considered tions. A melancholy but inevitable consequence there as tite pr(imi)ter of the catastrophes which of errors arid faults in which this country has have disturbed Europe during the last three years. fallen, so remarkable fbr her intelligence and cour- The French repoblic, with or without the presi- age, and so fertile in resources! What is to be. dent, is believed to be equally uninfluential. the result of all this! How far will Great Britain It is thus looked on as probable that the final and France carry their opposition I Will the pre- result of the conferences of Dresden on that point tensiiins of Austria produce a war! Will Great will be in conformity with the pretensions of Aus- Britain and France act in common to the end tria; arid it is anxiously inquired how England Those are the questiolls which are asked here, and and France (the latter particularly) can give their nobody can undertake to resolve them. assent. The introduction into the Germanic confederatioti From the Times, t8 Feb. of the whole of the Austrian possessiotis, ~vill give THE forutal proposal now made by the Emperor to Austria an irresistible preponderance in the of Attstria at the conference of Dresden to incur- affairs of Gertitany. Austria will utore than ever porate the whole of his dominions with the tern- extend her influence over the seconudary atld the tory of the Germanic confederation, has raised a petty states, for she alone will be able to protect question to which great importance is deserved- and defend tltem efficiently; as she will also have ly attached by all the cabinets of Europe, and the power of ruining and destroying them. Prussia which may lead at no distant period to still more will play but a poor part after tue developmertt of weighty c(inseqitetlces. The admission of the the authority and the credit of her rival, whole of the non-German dominions of Austria and That arrangement secures, for the future, to Prussia into the confederation by direct arrange- Austria the dominatiott of Italy. This interests ment between these two states, with the assent of England in particular. Etigland has ttever had but the minor German courts, involves in the first place one policy as regards Italy; this policy consists in the right, which the other powers of Europe have maintaittitig the rivalry of Austria attd of France in at no time renounced, to consider and advise upon that country, in opposing them constantly one to so much of the provisions of the federal compact of the other, in restraining one by means of the other, Gertnany as were introduced into the genteral and, if necessary, in supporting the weaker against Treaty of Vienna. Such an arrangemenit may the stronger. Such has been always the policy of evidently alter to a material degree, and without England. This policy was wise, and advantageous the consent of Europe, the existing balance of for her. A deviation had, however, taken place in power, and may thereby furnish a dangerous pre- 1815; too much had been granted to Austria. text for other countervailing changes in the tern- ENGLAND AND SOUTH CAROLINA. tonal divisions of the continent, which could only end in throwing everything into disorder and an ultimate appeal to force. It would place in addi- tional embarrassment and uncertainty the position perhaps the independenceof other states, like Denmark and Holland, which belong to the con- federation by one province, though essentially dis- tinct from it in the rest of their dominions. But, above all, it would give to the relations of Ger- many and Italy, or rather to the domination of Germany over Italy, a character differing widely from the rights hitherto attached to the house of Austria in the Italian provinces of the imperial mon- archy. We are not insensible, on the other hand, to the arguments which are employed in favor of at least one considerable portion of this scheme. The incorporation of the eastern possessions of Austria and the northern possessions of Prussia with the confederation opens to the industry and enterprise of the German race a vast and thinly peopled country; it extends the coast of the confederation on the Baltic and the Adriatic; and it will include a much larger extent of land and population within those common laws of trade and intercourse which must one day unite the German states. The mili- tjiry forces of those provinces have never been ex- cluded from Germany, and the federal army sent at this moment by Austria to Holstein consists in great part of troops not belonging to the federal provinces. The extension of the federal rights of German.y to Hungary, Gallicia, and the Lower Danube, as well as to Posen and East Prussia, would unquestionably strengthen the whole barrier of eastern Europe against the danger of a Russian invasion, and give to Austria and Prussia a point dappui in the west rather than upon their eastern confines. So far, then, we believe that the pro- posal for the incorporation of the provinces we have just named in the federal body, would call forth no remonstrance or objection from the cabinets of western Europe, and might have been effected without opposition. But when it was found that the Austrian plan positively included the imperial dominions in Italy, as well as the provinces to the north and east, the question assumed a graver aspect. It has been correctly stated that the French government lost no time in protesting at Vienna, explicitly and firmly, against any such extension of the Germanic confederation beyond the Alps, both as a material alteration of the Treaty of Vienna, and as an important addition to the politi- cal strength of the states contiguous to the French territory and frequently rivals of French influence. The British government, if we are correctly in- formed, did not directly participate in the diploma- tic measures actually taken by the cabinet of Paris, inasmuch as this country is less directly interested in the question, and has shown of late a greater desire to renew its accustomed amicable relations with Austria. But, as the proposal made to the German conference was one which called for the expression of an opinion from a41 the chief parties to the Treaty of Vienna, a courier is understood to have been despatched from London, in the course of the past week, who conveys to Dresden and Vienna the remonstrances of the British crown against an arrangement which can only be legally effected with the assent of a European congress, and which threatens by so extensive a change in the relations of Austria with Italy, to be the germ of future differences, or even hostilities, in that country. When the Austrian Empire seemed a short time ago to be on the brink of dissolution we were among that small number of observers who never despaired of its recovery, and who have watched with confidence the steady regeneration of the monarchy. That great work, tho ugh still very im- perfect, especially in the department of finance, is still advancing. But while we desire the main- tenance of the Austrian Empire in the pusition it has so long filled in Germany and in Europe, it caa be no part of the true and enlightened policy of Austria herself to assert immoderate claims of dominion, to stretch her powers to the uttermost, and even to defy the adverse chances of the future. We see with regret, and something more, the presence of an Austrian garrison in Hamburgh, which cannot be necessary for the pacificatiot~ of Holstein, and which is not justified by the bad pre- cedent of a similar occupation by Prussia. We are aware that, with reference to the affairs of Switzer- land and of Piedmont, language has sometimes beea held and projects discussed, which would, if they ever acquired a more practical character, call for the most decided opposition of England and France. The territories of those states are inviolable by the public law of Europe, and they are the more inviolable in our eyes because order and govern- ment have been restored in them by the use of free institutions, and not by the sword. Europe is recovering from a general convulsion of unexampled violence, and Austria herself has recovered more rapidly than some of her rivals. But it is the worst policy to turn this opportunity to any purpose of separate aggrandizement or exaltation. Prussia has just blasted her reputation and destroyed her influence by that fatal game ; we trust Austria will resist the temptation which the failure of attacks upon herself has certainly afforded, and that she will remember the only rule of common security to be mutual forbearance. Whatever tends to breed any serious dissension between the principal states of Eu- rope is an evil of the first magnitude, for in a strug- gle for territory, or for ascendency, the spirit of the revolution would infallibly break loose to mingle with the combatants. The annexation of the Loin- bardo-Venetian kingdom to the Germanic confeder- ation is such an occasion of strife. It would be received with despair by the inhabitants, who are the lawful subjects of the house of Austria, but not citizens of the Germanic body. It would give additional reason to apprehend that Austria means to rule in Italy by the force of Germany alone, and without any concession to the interests and feelings of the Italians themselves, it would increase our suspicions of her policy towards Piedmont and Switzerland. But above all, it would so materially turn the balance of power in the South of Europe to the prejudice of France, that the protest already made on her behalf against this measure would sooner or later be followed by a more open and determined resistance. The interest of England in the question is of a slighter and less direet charac- ter; but we oppose whatever seems to threaten, however remotely, the maintenance of peace; and we hold that no time could be more unfit for any extension of German or Austrian powers beyond the limits of the Treaties of 1815. From the Morning Chronicle 20th Feb. ENGLAND AND SOUTH CAROLINA. EVERYBODY knows that the moment a British ship touches at a port in South Carolina, those of her crew whose complexion falls below a recognized 42 ENGLAND AND SOUTH CAROLINA. standard of olive are immediately taken into cus- tody by the police, and lodged in prison till the vessel clears out~vards. Some extraordinary ex- amples of this peculiar practice appear to have come recently under the notice of our consul at Charleston, and he has been instructed hy the Foreign Office to lay a strong remonstrance on the subject before the Governor of the State. The American newspapers would have us believe that this proceeding on the part of the local agent of our government has raised a great question of inter- national law between England and the United States, and a still greater question of constitutional jurisprudence between the State of South Caro- lina and the American Federation. It may be remembered that representations on the same head were some time since addressed to President Taylors administration by the English plenipo- tentiary at Washington. A not very lucid or satis- factory legal argument, signed by Mr. Clayton, was received in reply, but it contained a clear admis- sion that the privilege of incarcerating British sub- jects on account of discoloration of the scarf-skin was not one of the rigbts ceded to the Federal government by Sooth Carolina in the Constitu- tional pact. The application of Mr. Consul Mat- thew to Governor Means is the direct logical conse- qitence of Secretary Claytons letter; but, in the sciences of diplomacy and of constitutional inter- pretation, two and two do not always make four, nor is the conclusion at all times a necessary result of the premises. The Federal authorities, recoiling from the anomalies which the independent action of a single state would entailand not a little irritated, perhaps, by the evident complacency of Gov. Means in repeating the words, our govern- ment, your government, and the two gov- ernmentshave abandoned, under President Fill- more, the position which they took up under Presi- dent Taylor, and Sir Henry Bulwer is engaged in a long and active correspondence, explanatory of Consul Matthews diplomatic irregularity in resorting to the subordinate instead of the supe- rior. It can never be contended that no wrong has been suffered. The gratuitous imprisonment of a whole class of British subjects, tested by every criterion of international law, and. still more by that large and liberal version of it which was sanctioned by the House of Commons in the Greek debate, amounts to a diplomatic grievance of the first magnitude. The most considerate and long- suffering of foreign ministers would never endure that, under a general permission to trade with a Roman Catholic country, Protestant sailors should be locked up as soon as they are landed, and Ro- manists only allowed to go at large. The king of Naples is as anxious to keep free Englishmen out of his dominions as South Carolina can be to exclude free negroes from her boundaries. But he does not (leclare that his subjects associate the presence of Englishmen with revolutionary princi- plesthat the characteristic marks of an English- man are red hair and red whiskersand that he is therefore nuder the painful necessity if imprisoning all red-headed foreigners who may visit his realms. The bloated Bonrbon confines himself to the expedientat all events, an impartial oneof an interminable quarantine, which is calculated to slay the most fervent of propagandists with weari- ness and ennui. In the case of America, the indig- nity offered to us by the South Carolinian practice is the more inexcusable, because the relations of the two countries are not governed by the com- mon law of nations, or by a single treaty, but by a succession of treaties, and by habitudes of com- mercial intercourse which possess a sanction almost beyond that of international engagements. Nor can it be urged against us that we have not ap- pealed to the proper tribunal. We had recourse to the Federal government, and we were informed that no jurisdiction over the matter resided in Washington. We now betake ourselves to the government of Carolinaa Sovereign State, in every incident of sovereigntywhich has not been transferred to Washington; and the central au- thorities immediately interfere with a protest, urg- ing upon usreasonably, it may be, but most illogicallythe perplexities which must ensue if we attempt to treat with an isolated member of the Federation on the same footing as with Mexico or Chili. We are thus called upon to give our assent to the doctrine that, by complicated Lnternal arrange- ments, a country may contrive to annul its exter- nal responsibility. The truth is, it is quite idle to argue, as a diffi- culty of public or domestic law, a matter which every soul in the Union admits to be embarrassed solely by circumstance and accident. Nobody has a shadow of a doubt that, in relinquishing the management of her external relations to the Presi- dent and Congress of the United States, South Cajolina disqualified herself for the enactment of laws which, by their operation, if not by their language, affect the foreign policy of the Union. The constitution provides a very simple mode of superseding local jurisprudence where it encroaches on the privileges reserved to the Collective Federa- tion. But the difficulty commences at the next stage. The fiery citizens of South Carolina would be sure to disregard the disallowance of their acts by the Washington authorities; and any attempt to coerce them would be made at the cost of ciVil war, and at imminent risk to the cohesion of the Federal system. In addition, it may be observed that there is probably no man in America more disinclined to push such a question to extremities than the present Secretary of State, hampered as he is by somewhat extravagant professions of devo- tion to the Union. In the face of such perplexi- Lies, the most honest, perhaps the wisest, and cer- tainly the most consistent policy would have been to let the British negotiations with South Carolina take their course. The tone of Governor Means, in the correspondence with Consul Matthew, is markedly courteous; and it is not at all unlikely that the State Legislature would have relaxed the obnoxious practice in our favora little, no doubt, by way of brilliantly vindicating the theory of State Rights, but partly also from an enlight- ened sense of the folly of feeding a quarrel be- tween the population which produces the cotton of the world and the population which muanufac- tures it. We are sincerely desirous that the long and active correspondence should produce some intel- ligible result, even if it do not bring redress. Not that we axe in the least inclined to imitate a few of our Transatlantic contemporaries, who rub their hands over the dispute, declare it insoluble, and conclude with simulated gravity, that it must end in a war. But if we cannot obtain reparation, let us at all events have the question placed in the proper light. Mr. Websters sophistry will doubt- less be exerted in mystifying it with greater suc- cess than was Mr. Claytons; but we trust that 43 AN INTERVIEW WITH NAPOLEON. serve What harm would be done, if the minis- ter were permitted to explain his acts to the house which sit in judgment on them Now, doubtless, Mr. Webster mi~ht at this moment be allowed to resume his seat in the Senate, not only without detriment, but with appreciable advantage to his party and to the republic. But this is because the American federation is already old, arid because executive mid legislature have been taught the lesson, which they are not likely to unlearn, of keeping their hands off each other. It is more doubtful what would have followed, if the Presi- dents ministers bad been permitted or compelled from the first to assist at the deliberations of Con- gress. A first-class orator, habituated to parlia- mentary conflicts, becomes acutely sensitive to par- liameiitary defeats; nor can the sense (if huntiliation be deadetted by any fine-drawn distitiction on paper between executive and legislative privileges, so long as traditions survive which make it incumbent on the beaten minister to retreat before the victori- ous (ipposition. Who can affirm that the republic ~votild not have been imminently jeopardized, or, at all events, its existing machinery brought to a dead lock, if, before Congress had entancipated itself from the prejudices of the British House of Com- mons, a federalist or republicati cabinet had person- ally eiicountered an tinfitictuating majority of po- litical opponents in both branches of the legisla- ture? As matters stand, vnites of censure, and all the armory of discontented parliaments, have been excluded from the practice, as they are necessarily from the theory, of the American constitution, by the homely expedient of keeping the ministry out of shot. It must be admitted, indeed, that the danger against which the fathers of the federation framed the security in question took the shape of ati over1)o~verful executive. They recoiled from the image of a Walpole or a North commanding maji)rities by the forces of corruption or the mach- inatiouis of intrigue. Butt the device xvhicht sug- gested itself to their sagacity for depriving the active power in the commonwealth of the means of undue influence has met the exactly opposite con- tin gency of a preponderant legislature ; and it effectually neutralizes the violent and unscrupulous tyranny to which men acting in bodies and masses are universally prone. From the Atbion. AN INTERVIEW WITH NAPOLEON. therefore went to the Tuileries. I found Bonaparte alone, lie first began the conversation of which I here give only an analysis. He did not seek to deceive me as to his views, nor as ti) the slate of things. He did not represent himself as taught by the lessons of adversity. He did not claim the toerit of returning to a love of liberty, through in chinatioti. lie coolly examined, with an impartiality too much akin to inidifferenice, and for his own sake, what was possible, and what was preferable. He spoke as follows The nation has now for t~velve years been un- ihistuirbed by political agitation, and for a year pa4 it has been without a war. This double repose has created for the country a desire for movenient. It wants, or thinks it watits, a senate and assembly. It has not always desired them. It threw itself at my feet when I reached the head of affairs. You must remember that, for you opposed me. Where was yonnr fulcrum? where your strength? No- whereI took on myself less authority than was offered to me. Now all is changed. A weak governurtent, inimical to the national interests, has given to the people a habit of defending itself and of trying to hoodwitik the authorities. The taste for constitutions, debates, and harangues appears to have returned. But do not deceive yourself; it is only the minority that wishes for them. The country, or if you prefer it the populace, wishes only for me. You have not seen how that populace rushed after my steps, threw itself from the moon- tains, called me, sought for me, saluted me. On my journey from Cannes, to the capital, I did not conquer, I only guidedI am not only, as has been said, the emperor of the soldiers, bnit of rite peas- antsof the plebeians of France. Therefore, not- withstanding the past, the people come back to me. There is sympathy between us. It is not so with the privileged classes. The nobility served uric and crowded eagerly into my anitechambersaccepted asked foreven solicited every place that was to be bad. I had the Mootmorencys, the Noailles, the Rohans, the Beauveaus, the Mortemarts. But there was never any sympathy. The steed curveuted, and was ~velh trainmed, bitt I felt him restive under uric. With the multittide it was otherwise. The popular nerve thrilled to mine. I sprang from the ranks of the people, and my voice works upon them. _________________________ Look at the recruits, those sons of the peasantry; I never flattered them, I treated them roughly. They did not surround me the less for that; they did not the less cry Vice lEmpereur. It was A FRIEND has translated for us M. Benjamin becauise in me and in them the same nature existed. Constants account of his interview with Napoleon, They regarded me as their support, their defenider during the Hundred Days, and we insert it against the nobility. I have now but to make a because it is extremely well rendered frutm the sign, or rather simply to turn my eyes away, and original. The curt and pithy style is altogether the aristocracy will be murdered in all the provinices. that of the emperor, and excelletitly imitated in M. They have played their part with such wisdom for the last six months but I will have no Jacquerie. Constants abridged report. if there be means to govern constitutionally, it is On the 14th of April, 1815, I received the fol- another affairI wished for the cinpireof the world; lowing letter: The Chamberlain on duty has and to assure it to myself, a boundless power was the homior to inform M. Benijamin Constamit, that necessary. To govern France alone, perhaps a his majesty the emperor has ordered him to itivite comistitunion may be better. I did wish for the em- M. Conistanit to repair immediately to the Tuile- pire of the world, and who would riot have wished rues. for it, in mny place? The world asked me to rule it! I had no wish to approach Bonaparte. I did not Kings and subjects alike hastened to put thteniselves believe that the man, who had so long exercised the under my sceptre. I seldom found any resistance most absolute authority, could be suddenly con- in France, but I did sornietimes meet with it from verted to ideas of liberty; habits of despotism are obscure and unarmed Frenchmennever from those not so easily eradicated. Butt I felt a desire to kings now so proud at no longer havinug a utan of judge for myself how touch we might hope from the people for their equal. See then what can be him; how far experience had operated on him. I done; now give me your own ideas. Public dis 45 AN INTERVIEW WITH NAPOLEON. serve What harm would be done, if the minis- ter were permitted to explain his acts to the house which sit in judgment on them Now, doubtless, Mr. Webster mi~ht at this moment be allowed to resume his seat in the Senate, not only without detriment, but with appreciable advantage to his party and to the republic. But this is because the American federation is already old, and because executive and legislature have been taught the lesson, which they are not likely to unlearn, of keeping their hands off each other. It is more doubtful what would have followed, if the Presi- deuts ministers had been permitted or compelled from the first to assist at the deliberations of Con- gress. A first-class orator, habituated to parlia- mentary conflicts, becomes acutely sensitive to par- liametitary defeats; nor can the sense of humiliation be deadened by any fine-drawn distinction on paper between execut.ive au(1 legislative privileges, so long as traditions survive which make it iucutnbent on the beaten minister to retreat before the victori- ous opposition. Who can affirm that the republic ~vottld not have been imminently jeopardized, or, at all evetits, its existing machinery brought to a (lead lock, if, before Congress had entancipated itself from the prejudices of the British House of Com- mons, a federalist or republicait cabinet had person- ally encounlered an unfluctuating majority of po- litical opponents in both branches of the legisla- turd As matters stand, votes of censure, and all the armory of discontented parliaments, have been excluded from the practice, as they are necessarily from the theory, (If the American constitution, by the homely expedient (If keeping the ministry out of shot. It must be admitted, indeed, that the danger against which the fathers of the federation framed the security in question took the shape of an overpowerful executive. They recoiled front the image of a Walpole or a North commanding majorities by the forces of corruption or the macit- inations of intrigue. But the device which sug- gested itself to their sagacity for depriving the active power in the commonwealth of the means of undue influence has met the exactly opposite con- tingency of a preponderant legislature ; and it affectually neutralizes the violent and unscrupulous tyranny to which men acting in bodies and masses are universally prune. From the Atbion. AN INTERVIEW WITH NAPt)LEON. A FRIEND has translated for us M. Benjamin Constants account of his interview with Napoleon, during the Hundred Days, and we insert it because it is extremely well rendered from the original. The curt and pithy style is altogether that of the emperor, and excellently imitated in M. Constants abridged report. On the 14th of April, 1815, I received the fol- lowing letter: The Chamberlain on duty has the honor to inform M. Benjamin Constant, that his majesty the emperor has ordered him to invite M. Constant to repair immediately to the luiie- ries. I had no wish to approach Bonaparte. I did not believe that the man, who had so long exercised the most absolute authority, could be suddenly con- verted to ideas of liberty; habits of despotism are not so easily eradicated. But I felt a desire to judge for myself how much we might hope from him; how far experience had operated ott nim. I therefore went to the Tuileries. I found Bonaparte alone. He first began the conversation of which I here give only an analysis. He did not seek to deceive me as to his views, nor as to tile state of things. He did not represetlt himself as taught by the lessons of adversity. He did not claim the merit of rettirning to a love of liberty, through in chination. He coolly exannined, with an impartiality too much akin to indifference, and for his ovn sake, what was possible, and what was preferable. He spoke as follows The nation has now for twelve years been un- (listurbed by political agitation, and for a year past it has been without a war. This double repose has created for tile country a desire for moveiltent. It wants, or thinks it wants, a senate and assembly. It has not always desired them. It threw itself at my feet when I reacited tile head of affiUrs. You must reutember that, for you opposed me. Where was yotmr fulcruml where your strength No. whereI took on myself less authority than was offered to me. Now all is changed. A weak government, ininlical to the national interests, has given to tile people a habit of defending itself and of trying to hoodwimtk the authorities. Tile taste for constittttions, debates, and harangttes appears to have returned. But do not deceive yourself; it is only the minority that wishes for them. The country, or if yott prefer it the populace, wishes only for me. You have not seen how titat populace rushed after my steps, threw itself front tlte inoun- tains, called me, sougltt for me, saluted me. On my journey from Cannes, to the capital, I did not conquer, I only guidedI am not only, as has been said, the emperor of the soldiers, btnt (If tite peas- amttsof the plebeians of France. Therefore, not- withstanding the past, the people come back to me. There is sympathy between us. It is tInt so with the privileged classes. The nobility served rite and crowded eagerly into my anttechautbersaccepted asked foreven solicited every place that was to be had. I had the Moutmorencys, the Noailles, the Rohans, the Beauveaus, the Mortemarts. But there was never any sympathy. The steed curvetted, and was xvell trained, hint I felt him restive under nine. With the multitude it was otherwise. The popular nerve thrilled to mine. I sprang from the ranks of the people, and my voice works upon them. Look at the recruits, those sons of the peasantry I never flattered them, I treated them roughly. Tltey did not surround nte the less for tItan; they did not the less cry Vice lEmpereur. It was becaitse in me and itt them the same nature existed. They regarded me as their support, their defcntder against tine nobility. I have itow but to make a sign, or rather simply to turn my eyes away, and the aristocracy will be murdered in all the provimnces. They have played their part witlo such wisdom for the last six montIts !but I will have no Jacquerie. If there be means to govern constitutionally, it is another affairI wished for the etnpire of die world; and to assure nt to myself, a boundless power was mnecessary. To govern France alone, perhaps a comnstitution may be better. I did wish fur the em- pine of the world, and who would inot itave wished for it, in nny plac& The worldasked me to rule it! Kings and subjects alike hastened to put thnentiselves under my sceptre. I seldom found any resistance in France, btnt I did sounetimes meet witin it from obscure and unarmed Frenchmennever from those kings now so proud at no longer having a utan of the people for their equal. See then what can be done; now give me your own ideas. Public dis 45 46 HAYTI. cussion, free election, responsible ministers, the liberty of the pressI will have them all. The liberty of the press above allto stifle it now were absurd; on that head I am convinced. I am the man of the people, and if the people really wish for liberty, I owe it to them. I have acknowledged their supremacy, and must listen to their wishes, nay, even to their caprices. I never wished to op- press them for my pleasure. I had great plans, but destiny has disposed of themI am no longer a conqueror; I can no longer be one. I know what is, and what is not, possible. f have but one mission leftto raise up France and give her the government that suits her. I do not hate liberty. I thrust her aside, when she stopped my path, but I understand her, and was educated in her ideas. My work of fifteen years has been destroyed, and cannot be recommenced; for that twenty years more and two millions of men would have to be sacrificed. Besides, I now wish for peace, and shall only obtain it by more victories. I will not give false hopes; I have allowed it to be said that there are negotiations on foot; but there are noneI foresee a violent strugglea long war. To support it, the nation must support me; hut as her reward she will, I believe, ask for liberty She shall have it. The situation is novelI only ask to be informed as to her wants. I am growing old. At forty-five one is no longer what one was at thirty. The repose of a constitutional king may suit me. It will even more certainly suit my son. Correspondence of the Journal of Commerce. HAYTI. A MOST extraordinary feature in the character of this people is their superstition. I say extraor- dinary, because here you find superstitions, belong- ing to the lowest state of civilization, in connection With a high degree of intelligence and refinement. Here, again, the influence of Popery is seen upon the character of the people of this island. I verily wish that Mr. Forbes and ofhers that have gone to Rome, could have taken this island in their route. A few days spent here, where Romanism has had an opportunity to make a full development of itself, would have furnished them some new food for I thought, as they went on their way! About the time of my arrival on the island two black girls were returning from Port an Prince to their home in the country, about eight miles distant. As they were going leisurelypast a garden, just outside the city, their attention was somehow called to a tree that stood in the garden, and, after looking into the top for some time, they both of them came to the startling conclusion, that they could see the Virgin Mary in the tree! The longer they looked, the more certain they became. The story goes, that one of these girls, who was a notoriously irreligious character, began at once to treat the Virgin very irreverently and impiously, when she manifested her power by drawing the girl to the tree, throw- ing her arms around it, and compelling her thus to embrace it for several hours, until she not only be- came truly peniLnt, hut was honored of the Virgin to become her especial minister. Others who were passing were attracted to the tree, arid in a very brief time the news of this discovery was flying through the city. A most incredible excitement followed this announcement. I feel that I am haz- arding my character for veracity in stating what my eyes have seen. A visit from the Virgin to this peoplethe Virgin, whose name is ever on their tongue, and to whom they address most of their prayers and direct most of their worship surely such a visitor should be honored with no ordinary demonstrations! Arid she was thus honored. Hun- dreds, yes thousands, immediately flocked to the favored, hallowed spot, to see with mortal eyes, and to adore and worship, this heavenly visitant. More than two weeks had passed, and the most of ihe l)eople of the city and the surrounding country had made their visit to the tree, before I made my pil- grimage thither. I walked out one evening in com- pany wit.h the Rev. Mr. Judd, Baptist missionary in this city. On arriving, we found but a few worshippers there; but while we remained small companies were constantly arriving, who, as soon as they came near the tree, looked iiito its top, crossed themselves most devoutly, fell upon their knees, and, after remaining thus for a time engaged in their devotions, arose arid lighted the wax taper they had brought with them, and placed it iiear the tree. The bottom of the tree was completely sur- rounded with bouquets of beautiful flowers, and, for several feet around, the ground was covered with wax candles, which had been placed there by the worshippers. A temporary arbor had been erected to shield them from the rain and dew, and they were kept burning day and night. Mr. Judd had visited the tree some time before, when the excitement was greatest. He told me he had seen two or three thousand at a time, bowing about the tree, and all confident they could see the Virgin. Ladies of all ranks and classes went forth, many of them dressed, as is common here, with most beautiful white dresses, and white satin slippers; and thus attired they knelt upon the ground, which had become com- pletely soaked from rain and excessive tramping. The Empress is a most devoted Catholic, and no one was more interested iii this movement than she. She did not hesitate to place herself on a level with the lowest, and eagerly joined in the throng; and went forth and bowed in worship with them. It is said that her interest and enthusiasm were even higher than others, as she regarded this visit of the Virgin as in especial honor of the name and reign of her honored spouse, His Majesty Faustiri the 1st. At the time of my visit, we found the girl who had niade the discovery and been guilty of the disrespectful treatment toward the Virgin, lying lazily and listlessly upon a mat near the tree. She had never left it for a moment since the Virgin had exerted her remarlcable power in holding her to the tree; and she was now regarded as scarcely mortal. Her food was brought to her by the devoted ; and others gave her alms, hoping to secure intercessions with the Virgin in their behalf. She was a coarse, fat, simple looking girl, about eighteen or twenty years old, and the only garment upon her was a loose gown, such as is worn by the poor people here, made of coarse brown duck. Her most osten- sible business was to keep the tapers lighted, and it had already been decided, I know not by whom, that she should remain there for forty days. But you are impatient to know what could be the cause of all this excitement, whether or not I saw the Virgin, and why they supposed they saw her. I will explain these queries as far as I am able. The tree I found to be the Palmiste, which is their national Liberty Tree ; and is represented upon their coat of arms, national colors, etc. It has a smooth body, entirely free from limbs, and looking like a large post turned in a lathe, up to very near its top, where a tuft of long leaves commences, MUTINY AND OPPRESSION OF BRITISH SAILORS. which grow around the body quite like the leaves around a corn-stalk. These leaves are long and spreading, and curve downward very gracefully, giving the tree quite an umbrella-like appearance. Now for the Virgins place. Though this is the region of perpetual verdure, these long branches, after an allotted time, are, like the human race, crowded from their position by the generation that succeeds them. When one of these branches falls, the place which it has left is qyite green ;but by exposure to the atmosphere it soon becomes brown, like the body of the tree. As this change upon the surface is going on, various representations are seen ;and thus upon this tree was wrought the facenot as distinct as that of the man in the moon, in which these devoted Haitians saw the adorable and blessed Mother of God, the Virgin Mary. But to fulfil my promise, I must say, that like a good many others, I was entirely unable to see any kind of a representation of a human face during any of my visits to the tree. This, however, was very satisfactorily accounted for by the Catho- lics, by the fact that we looked through Protestant eyes. One fact in connection with this excitement has amused arid interested me greatly, and I must give it to you for the sake of the moral. As usual in papal countries, these people set a great value upon religious processions; and at once they beset the priest to order a procession to this tree in honor of the Virgin. This was too much. He was already unable to conceal his disgust at the movement, on account of the disgrace it was bringing upon his people, and he resolutely resisted all their beset- ments and entreaties thus to give it his sanction, because by so doing they would only make them- selves a laughing-stock to the Protestants. Such is the power of Protestantism! This is, perhaps, the most glaring exhibition of superstition that I have met with upon the island; but there are others that the priesfs sanction, and which bring them greatgain, which are scarcely less humiliatimig. I have recently made a tour of sev- eral hundred miles, and though I found the people of the north of the island more intelligent, and I think decidedly superior to the people upon this part of the island, yet they were scarcely less supersti- tious. During my visit to Porte de Paix, a town of con- siderable importance on the north of the island, where an American mission has been established, by the Rev. Mr. Jones, of the Seventh-day Baptist denominatioim, I heard much of the movements of a L nest named Massip, who was stationed at St. ouis, some ten miles distant. This priest recently came from the United States, where he had been for fourteen years, and claims to have been instru- mental in getting up the French Catholic Church in Canal street, New York. This priest erected a booth upon the batik of a small stream near St. Louis, placed his crosses, candles, pictures, etc., in it, amid, mupon a day lie had appointed, his parish- ioners brought together their domikeys, goats, sheep, cattle, and various other things, and he baptized them for half a Haitian dollar a head. Houses are baptized, and have a godfather and godmother, the same as a child. An American captain told me that he was once sent for to stand as godfather to a small boat that was to he baptized. Such are a few of the superstitions under which poor priest- ridden Hayti groans. Yours, A. K. N. From the Times, 15 Feb. MUTINY AND OPPRESSION OF BRITISH SAILORS. PERHAPS in the turmoil created between aggres- sive popes and agricultural pretenders the public at large may hardly be aware that the third pro- verbial enemy of Englands peace has been so effectually at work in the midst of our merchant seamen as to reproduce a miniature mutiny of the Nore. The act recently passed utider time care of Mr. Labouchre has been misrepresented by all the devices of travesty and falsification, till at last the sailors of some of the miorthern ports have fairly turned out on strike, and at Shields there were yesterday upwards of 1,000 seamen combined for an attack on the best imiterests of themselves and their profession. To give a little credibility to the statement we are going to subjoin, we will relate two anecdotes of very similar purport which came to us in times past from those actually concerned in the transactions referred to, for, excepting by such illustrations of what perversity and delusion can effect, we should despair of making the general reader believe in the reality of the case before us. Of all the grievances suffered by our soldiers sixty years since, there was none worse than the intoler- able obligation of appearing on parade with a queue duly plastered with grease and flour. Half the mens time was taken up in dressing and fashion- ing this hideous incumbrance, and to such a pitch did the annoyance rise that, as it was impossible for all the polls in tIme regiment to be decorated in the morning, some of the least fortunate repaired to the barber over night and actually slept whIm their heads hanging out of bed in order to avoid any disarrangement of the coiffure. At length commands were issued for the discontinuance of the practice, when the men immediately rebelled. The order reached a famous dragoon regiment on the march between Ipswich and Norwich, and the officer commanding was surprised by a formal report that the troops were in a state of mutiny. The regiment was admirably disciplined, and none in the army bore a higher character, but it proved to be perfectly true that the men absolmitely refused to cut off their tails. Fortunately tIme officer in command was a man of sense and temper, and instead of taking proceedings which in those days might have cost half-a-dozen lives he winked at the folly until reason succeeded in making itself heard. The next example is equally striking and more im- mediately pertinent. it was determined, during the military occupation of France, for certain reasons which cami be easily conceived, to issue the soldiers pay at shorter intervals than before, so that the nien, instead of receiving a superfluously large sum after long delays, might have at all times in their pockets the means of procurimug their daily comforts. This regulation, too, very nearly cre- ated a mutiny! The men of one of time best Pen- insular corps were summoned to take their pay before the adjutant ~nd paymaster, who sat at a table with the money before him. Ttme first man called upon absolutely refused to touch a ~arthing, the second likewise, and the third the same. Will none of you have kl said the adjutant then neither will I; and, in hearty sympa- thy with the men, he gave the table a kick, and sent the money and all rolling on the floor. After these instances of professional perversity which we have heard detailed by eye-witnesses of the proceedin,s, we may perhaps obtain some cre- dence for our reports from Shields. The Mercantile 47 LIFE IN THE WEST. Marine Bill is an act for improving in all respects the condition of the merchant service. Its provis- ions are particularly directed towards securing the seamen against tyranny or fraud at the hands of either captains or owners, while at the same time it institutes regulations for preserving a record of all such conduct as may merit notice or reward. It endeavors to supersede the practice and occu pa- tion of crimping by establishing shipping offices, at which masters and men may apply independent- ly, without recourse to any other agents, and wherein means are provided for insuring a due execution of the agreement between the two par- ties, anml facilitating a settlement of disputes. Heretofore the sailor was often cheated at the corn- mencement~ of his voyage by an improper issue of his advance note, and at its conclusion hy delay in delivering accounts; both which contin- gencies are obviated by the bill. Furthermore, whereas it was proved in evidence that the greatest misery and danger were often created on a voyage by the oppression of the captain on one side or the misconduct of individual seamen on the other, a disciplinary code was drawn up for the instruction and admonition of both. This consisted of two portionsone a simple abstract of parliantentary enactments on the subject, showing the laws actu- ally existing and obligatory; and the other of a character purely suggestive, containing, md eed, certain regulations for mutual use, but leaving their acceptance purely optional between masters and men. In plain truth, all that was done by the framers of the bill was to ascertain the principal grievances on both sides, to collect and compare the customary usages of the different ports, and to draw up by these aids such a definite form (if stand- ing agreement as might be equitably adopted by both parties if they felt inclined. Certain fines were authorized, it is true, but most of these had been long before in use; they regarded rather the comforts of the crew than the interests of the owners, and in many cases they superseded severer penalties l)rov tIed by law. One part of the code, in short, simply declared the duties of the parties concerned without affecting such duties in the smallest degree. The other provided a form of compact drawn up by impartial hands which might be accepted or rejected at pleasure. Now, against these regulations the seamen of the north have rebelled. They have been induced to view the shipping offices as slave marts, where, according to their OWO expressions, they are bought and sold, although these offices do nothing more than supersede establishments where they were literally kidnapped, robbed, and turned into money by crimps They have been taught to look on their register tickets as a badge of degrading servitude, although a soldier might make the same objection (and we almost wonder they did not) to the good conduct stripes on his coat. Finally, as we observed, they have turned out upon strike, and have done their utmost. to suspend the foreign trade of those parts. To a memorial which they addressed to the Board of Trade they have now re- ceived a most temperate and friendly reply, urging upon them nothing but a fair trial of the regula- tions to which they object, and promising that any arrangement proved by experience to be unjust or inconvenient shall be promptly cancelled. The result this day announced is less satisfactory than ~ve could have wished, but we trust that the good sense of the men and the friendly advice of the shipowners may speedily put a stop to proceedings which will damage none so much as those who are promoting them. If the men will but return to their work, and content themselves with the constitu- tional methods of redress, whuich they already con- template, we are perfectly certain that they will soon think better of the matter, and recognize the merits of the measure whose beneficial operation they are now so determined to resist. From the Home Journal, LIFE IN THE WEST. BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. Ho! brotherscome hither and list to my story.~ Merry and brief will the narrative be; Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glory Master am I, boys, of all that I see. Where once frowned a forest, a garden is smiling The meadow and moorland are marshes no more; And there curls the smoke of my cottage, hegu~ling rhe children who cluster like grapes round my door. Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest; TIte land of the heart is the land of the West, Oho, boys !oho, boys !oho! Talk not of the town, boysgive me the broad prairie, Where man, like the wind, roams impulsive and free; Behold how its beautiful colors all vary, Like those of the clouds, or the deep rolling sea, A life in the ~voods, boys, is even as changing; With proud independence we season our cheer, And those who the world are for happiness rang- ing, Wont find it at all, if they dont find it here. Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest Ill show you the life, boys, we live in tIme West. Oho, boys !oho, boys !oho! Here, brothers, secure from all turmoil and danger We reap what we sow, for the soil is our own; We spread hospitalitys board for the stranger, And care not a fig for the king on his throne. We never know want, for we live by our labor, Amid in it contentment and happiness find; We do what we can for a friend or a neighbor, And die, boys, in peace and good-will to man- kind. Then enter, boys ; cheerly, boys, enter and rest; You know how we live, boys, and die in the West! Oho, boys oho, boys! oho! VITALITY OF HAIa.Pictet found the hair of a Guanche mummy from Teneriffe, which was perhaps a thousand years old, sufficiently susceptible in a Saussures hygrometer.Hcunboldt. FETTERS SUPERSEDEIXThe Siamese prevent the escape of their prisoners by burning their feet. The LevINe Ace is published every Sutmerday, hy E. LITTELL & Co., at the corner of Tremont and Bromfield Streets, Boston. Price t2l cents a number, or six dollars a year in advance. Remittances for any period ~vill be thankfully received and promptly attended to. 48

LITTELLS LIVING AGE.No. 360.12 APRIL, 1851. From Chambers Papers for the People. DANIEL DE FOE. AMONG the books which may be reckoned as belonging to the worlds acknowledged stereotypes, there are probably few that have been read more frequently, or proved acceptable to a greater variety of tastes, than the illustrious Robinson Crusoe. While, however, in connection with this perform- ance the authors name has become so extensively familiar, it is principally by means of it that he continues to be remembered. The generality of modern readers know little of the extent and merit of De Foes political and controversial writings, or of the conspicuous position which he occupied on account of them with his contemporaries. Having reference chiefly to the disputes and contentions of his times, these productions have naturally lost much of their original interest, and their value has been therefore considerably diminished. It is nevertheless conceived that they are worthy of a more general investigation and attention ; and accordingly it is here intended to furnish some account of them, and also to present such an out- line of the writers personal history, character, sufferings, and disappointments, for conscience sake and otherwise, as can be conveniently rendered within the limits of the present paper. Dc Foes entire works consist of more than two hundred separate publications, embracing a vast variety of subjects, and all exhibiting evidences of great ability, honesty of intention, and a keen perception of just arid wholesome principles. As a politician, he was throughout his whole career the steady advocate of liberal interests, the manly and upright champion of justice, of tolerance, and of all those citizen-rights valued by honest Eng- lishmen. Living in a turbulent era of our history, when the pretensions of rival and selfish factions were agitated with an inveterate and unprincipled animosity, he seems to have been in great part proof against the prevalent contagion, and to have entertained the questions in dispute with a scrupu- lous re,ard to their truthfulness or reasonable expediency. By being an honester man than the generality, he became the object of general misap- prehension and opprobrium. Few men had more of the worlds notice in his day ; none more of its calumny and persecution. In a more than ordinary degree he shared the fate of every man who, by genius or cultivation, is in advance of his own times. The party whose aims and schemings he opposed he very naturally offended ; but he was also not unfrequently misrepresented and calum- niated by the very party whose interests be endeav- (sred to promote. This party consisted of the nonconforming Presbyterians, who, as the succes- sors of the Puritans of the foregoing age, contin- ued to protest against the narrowness and domi- nancy of the Protestantism of the Reformation. Dc Foe is in a certain sense the representative of the aims and spirit of modern Independency: he was in creed and political principle a dissenting Presbyterian, and he advocated most of the claims CCCLX. LIVING AGE. VOL. XXIX. 4 and opinions by which the dissenting sects were then, and are still in part, distinguished ; but he seems, upon the vhole, to have been greatly supe- rior to his party, inasmuch as he was less sec- tarian and more liberal and catholic in his senti- ments. In proceeding to narrate the principal events and transactions of his life, it may be well to mention at the outset that the particle Defor reasons which cannot now he ascertainedwas adopted, and not inherited, by our author his original family name being simply Foe, without any eupho- nious or ornamental prefix. Of his ancestry or immediate progenitors there is very little ktiown. The earliest that has been mentioned is his grand- father, Daniel Foe, who was a sitbstantial English yeoman, and farmed his own estate at Elton in Northamptonshire. He is supposed to have been attached to the Cavalier and High Church party and, as an evidence of his respectability, it has been recorded that he kept a pack of hounds for his diversion. Daniel pleasantly relates, that his grandfathers huntsman had the irreverent habit of naming his dogs after the most illustrious officers in the Puritan and Royal forces He had his Roundhead and his Cavalier, his Goring and his WaIler, and all the generals in both armies were hounds in his pack; till, the times turning, the old gentleman was fain to scatter the pack, and make them up of inure dog-like surnames. Besides scattering his hounds, it would seem that Mr. Foe had also to disperse his family, for we find that James Foe, who is presumed to have been a younger son, was sent at a proper age to Lon- don, and there apprenticed to a butcher. In his calling he became afterwards established in St. Giles, Cripplegate, and, after flourishiisg in busi- ness for many years, he ultimately retired upon a decent competency, which he enjoyed until his death. He uvas the father of omir celebrated Datuiel, who was born in the parish of St. Giles afore- said in the year 1661. His parents liaving embraced the Nonconform- ists principles, the boy was accordingly brought up in their faith. Of the manner in which he spent his early years there is no existing record. The imagination is left to picture him as it can. A lively and pleasant fellow we conceive him to have been, of qtiick and generous impulses, not backward to contend in feats of sport or warfare, but nowise given to the exaction of unfair advan- tages, for he says he learned from a boxing Eng- lish boy not to strike an enemy when he is down. One cannot readily bring his figure and al)pearaiice very near to us; but there assuredly, in St. Giles parish, Cripplegate, he once visihily lived and went to school with his contemporaries. Nightly for some years was he perhaps seated at the family table in the sitting-rooma little back parlor, as we fancy, behind the butchers shopconning les- sons for the coming day, and possibly relieving his strained attention by counting the flies upon the ceiling. There were times, doubtless, when lie read books for his own amusenient: most likely the historical portions of the Bible, and probably 50 DANIEL BE FOE. the wondrous allegory of the Pilgrims Prog- referred to, either in depreciation of De Foe, or by ress. On Sundays he had to put on a grave way of illustrating the poets penetration. face, and go forth with the family to the meeting- At what time De Foe quitted the Newington house in Little St. Helens, Bishopsgate Street, institution is not distinctly known ; neither is it to hear the Rev. Dr. Annesley, an esteemed apparent what induced him to abandon the design Presbyterian minister, who had been formerly of entering the Presbyterian ministry. Perhaps ejected from the incumbency of Cripplegate. he had no sufficient sense of any call to the work. It There, with subdued and steady countenance, in has even been surniised that the volatility of his dis- the grave Presb yterian congregation, Daniel un- position might have proved incompatible with that doubiedly sat arid listened to the fervid eloquence dignified vocation. An early turn for authorship, of the preacher, and imbibed from it something amid aim inveterate tendency for satire, niay have of the manly independence and invincible love (if contributed to unfit him for entering into the mm- liberty which he was destined afterwards to dis- istry with an exclusive devotion to its duties, and play in his own career. It is even conceivable may possibly have determined him to renounce his that the good minister sometimes visited his fath- purpose, for the sake of addressing himself more er s house, amid it is not unlikely that, on suitable freely to literary and political pursuims. At any occasions, he may have put his hand on the boys rate, at time age of twenty-one lie came forth boldly head and bade him remember to stand resolutely asan author, embracing the popular side in politics. by the principles and religious doctrines in which His first production was a spirited lampoon, he had been instructed, levelled at the noted Roger LEstrange, who, in a It were interesting to know whether Daniel ever work entitled a Guide to the Inferior Clergy, carried a butchers tray, and what was time price of had recently advanced some highly illiberal notions. mutton, as his father retailed it to customers, two Dc Foes pamphlet bore the title of Speculum hundred years ago. To such questions as these, Crape-Gownorum or a Looking-Glass for the however, we can now obtain no answer. But Young Academics, new Foyld; with Reflections jud,,ing from the prosperous circumstances of his on some of the late High-flown Sermons, to which family, and from the fact that young Dc Foe was is added an Essay towards a Sermomi of time Newest early destined for the Presbyterian ministry, it Fashion. By a Guide to time Inferior Clergy. seems improbable that he was ever actively connected London ; 1682. The title was adopted in aIm- with his fathers business. At the age of fourteen, sion to the crape-gowns then in use among the in- after lie had been sufficiently qualified by inferior ferior clergy, and the banter was sufficiently effect- teachers, he ivas sent to a Nonconformist college, ive to put them out of fashion, and thereby damage or academy, at Newington, then under the direction the respectability of the material, agaimist which, of the Rev. Charles Morton, a gentleman who had however, time author had imo particular antipathy. the reputation of being a polite and profound The design of the work was to expose and ridicule scholar. Here he is reported to have had great the pretensions of the high Church Faction. The advantages for learning, and to have lived in very most amusing portion is the sernmon, which is a agreeable society. Little, however, is kumown uif clever parody (if the pulpit discourses of tIme times, his manner of life, or of the progress which he made and was especially intended to satirize the crape- while residing at this institution ; but it has been gown men for their interferences with politics, concluded, from certain passages in his writings, that they may see huuw ridicim Ions they are, when that he had not failed to turn his uupportunities to they stand fretting, and fuming, and heating them- account. He has informed us that lie had in his selves about state affairs in their pulpits. its time been master of five langua~es, and that he had success with the town, and the fertility of the sub- studied the mathematics, natural philosophy, logic, ject, imiduced the author to follow it imp with a geography, and history. With the theory and second part, in which, however, he deals moro practical capabilities of the English constitution he seriomisly with the governnment on aceuuont (if its was thoroughly acquainted and he sometimes severity to Dissenters, and, by exhibiting the prac- boasts of having investigated politics as a science. tical effects of persecution, cleverly exposes its Under the direction of his tutor, he went through ahisurdity. The work seems to have attracted at- the authorized cotirses of theology, in which he tention enough to lead somne one to reply to it, as acquired such a proficiency as enabled him to cope the same year we have notice of a pumbhication with the acutest writers of the disputatious a0e in bearing the title of Reflectiumus upon Two Scorn- which he lived. His knuuwledge of ecclesiastical bus Libels, called Speculum Crape-Gownorum. history was also very considerable; and, imideed, his The author is commonly supposed to have been attainments in all departments of general information LEstrange himself. were such as to entitle hiuti to be considered a per- Three years after the publication of his pam- son tif great intelligence and cultivation. A man plmletumamely, in the summer of 1685Dc Foe of deep or extensive learning, in the technical engaged km practical hostility against time govern- acceptation, he certainly never was, nor as such nient of James II., by joiuming the standard of time was he ever desirous of being regarded ; but that Duike (if Mommnmouuthm when lie landed in Dorsetshire lie was anything like the illiterate person which with his hundred amid fifty men, for time purpose of some of his opponents delighted to represent him delivering the country from time dominion of arbi- to be, there is evidence enough in his writings to trary rule, and the anticipated sway of popery, and mlisprove. The poet Gay, adopting the cant of the thereby gaining f(ir himself the crown of Emugland Scriblemus Club, speaks of him as a fellow who a ruimantic kind of invasion, says Welwood, had excellent natural parts, hut wanted a small which is scarcely paralleled in history. On the foumidation of learning, and cites hum as a lively suppression of this rebellion, our adventurous instance of those wits who, as an ingenious avuthuir volunteer narrowly escaped being taken prisoner. says, will endure but mine skinimning ; but this is Eluding pursuit, however, lie managed to save his a jud~ment which time has since emphatically head; and being Personally unknown in that part reversed; and it is not likely that it will be again~ of the kingdonn which was the seat of the insurrec DANIEL DE FOE. 51 tion, he does not appear to have been afterwards jected to subscribe, and scrupled not to denounce suspected, and therefore was never brought to trial it as an abominable heresy. Such a presumptuous for his treason. Returning subsequently to Lou- exaltation of the divine right of kings he cousidered don, he next proceeded to settle himself peaceably to be entirely subversive of the divine rights of in business, resolved, if possible, to refrain from in- men and, rather than acknowledge it, or sanction terfering further in public or polemical affairs. In its acknowledgment, he ~vas constrained to try the Freemans Court, near the thoroughfare of Corn- case by logical disputation, and was even nowise hill, he accordingly became established as a hose- disinclined to try it by argument of battle. To factor, designing to live by a reasonable commission this disposition, indeed, the whole country came on the sale of stockings. In 1688, being a freeman at last. James II., in attempting to carry the cur- by birth, he was admitted into the livery of Lou- rent dogmas into practice, aroused a universal don. For ten years he devoted himself more or opposition to his schemes and government; and less to business ; but the times xvere tom) unfavora- Church of England people and Dissenters finally ble to permm~it him to succeed. The discontents and combined to expel him from the kingdom. The agitations of the country, occasioned by the arbi- 4th of November, the day on which the Prince of trary proceedings of the king, who was aiming at Orange landed, Dc Foe is reported to have com- absolute power over the lives and consciences of memnorated ever afterwards as a sort of sacred his subjects, and fomented by the disputes and con- holiday. It is a day, said he, famous on troversies of the several factions into which the various accounts, and every one of then) dear to nation was divided, were of too exciting and inter- Britons who love their country, value the Protestant esming a character for a man of DeFoes active and interest, or who have an aversion to tyranny and earnest temperament to refrain from taking part in Oppression. In the following year, when King them. Mixing continually in company, in coffee- William and Queen Mary visited the city, our ex- houses and in taverns, he seems to have spent more ulting Dissenter rode on horseback in the proces- of his time in discussing the movements and pre- 5iOfl as a member of a royal regiment of volun- tensions of the parties, and the bearings of political teers. disputes, than in attending to his personal interests at the counter. With him, it would appear, there The Revolution being settled, Dc Foe appears was no alternative ; when the well-being of the for some titne to have abstained from politics, and nation, and the most important liberties of the to have directed his attention principally to affaiis people, were endangered, all private convenience of trade. For some years past he haml been enga~ed and advantage ceased, in comparison, to have any in commercial speculations with Spain and Por- sensible hold on his regards. He therefore stood tugal ; bum, being repeatedly unsuccessful, he forth boldly in defence of the popular rights, speak- finally failed in business. The occupations of trade ing amid writing whatsoever might seemuto him cal- seldom assort well ~vith literary genius, and it is culated to consolidate and support them. thought that Dc Foes lively and discursive talents One of the prominent dogmimas of the day, and one were the principal hindrance to his success. which served the cause of despotism more effectu- With the usual imprudence (if superior genius, ally than any other, was the absurd pretension of says Mr. Chalmers, he was carried by his vivacity the unlimited and unconditional divine right of into companies who were gratified by his ~vit. He kings. lt was for mauy years, says De Foe, spent those hours with a small society for the cul and I am witness to it, that the pulpit sounded tivation of polite learnimig which he ought to have miothing but the duty of absolute submission, obedi- employed in the calculations of the counting-house; ence without reserve, subjection to princes as Gods and being obliged to abscond from his creditors itt vicegerents, accountable to none, to be withstood 1692, he natmirally attributed those misfortunes to in nothing, amid by no person. I have heard it the war which were probably owing to his owmi publicly preached, that if the king commanded my mamisconduct. Be this as it may, it is very evident head, amid sent his messengers to fetch it, I was that his failure was no impeachment to his honesty. bound to smibniit, and stand still while it was cut Amin angry creditor, indeed, took out a commission off. That the reader may be assured that this is of bamikrmiptcy against him; but this was shortly really no caricature of the opinions which then afterwards superseded, on the petition of those to pmevailed, let him take the following delectable whom he was most indebted, amid who accepted a passage from a pubhiahed sermon of the Bislimip (if composition on his single humid. This was puncto Chester in those days, who undoubtedly spoke only ally paid, as he became capable of payin~. it, bj what were the common sentiments of the clergy efforts of umiwearied diligence. Some of his crcdL Though the king, saith he, should not please itors who had been thus satisfied, falling afterwards to hmimaor usthough lie rend off the mantle from into difficulties themselves, De Foe voluntarily paid our bodies, as Saul did from Samuelnay, though up their entire claim an example of honesty, he should sentence us to death, of which, blessed says Mr. Chaluters, which it wotild be unjust to be God and the king, there is no danger; yet, if De Foe and to theworldto conceal. The amount we were living members of the Church of Emugland, for which he failed cannot now be ascertained, but we must neither open omir mouths nor lift up our it must have been considerable, and shows that lie hands against him, hut honor him before the elders was no peddling or petty trader, such as his pohiti- and people of Israel ; nor must we ask our prince cal enemies delighted in represemiting him. Being why he governs us otherwise than we please to be reproached by Lord Ilaversham as a mercenary, Ge governed omirselves; we must neither call him to Foe tells him, in 1705, that, with a numerous account for his religion, nor question his policy imi family, and no help hmit his own industry, lie had civil matters, for lie is made our king by Gods forced his way, with undiscouraged diligence, law, of which the law of the land is only declara- through a sea of misfortunes, and reduced his debts, tive !* exclusive of composition, from seventeen thousand To this sort of doctrine De Foe altogether olin- to less than five thousand pounds.* * Somers Tracts, ix. 129 Reply to Lord Havershams Vindication. DANIEL DE FOE. As the estimate to be taken of De Foes moral character must be in great part determined by his conduct under these pecuniary difficulties, it is es- sential that whatever evidence there may be now existing illustrative of his integrity should be fairly stated. In the first place, it would appear that his personal probity was unsuspected ; for so high a sense of his honor was entertained by his creditors, that they agreed to take his own personal security for the amount of composition upon his debts. The confidence reposed in him seems likewise to have been justified, inasmuch as he returned ulti- mately to all or the greater number of his creditors the full amount of their original claim. This, says Mr. Wilson, was a fine illustration of the effect of moral principle, and an exemplification of the advice he gave to others. Which advice is: Never think yourselves discharged in conscience, though you may be discharged in law. The obliga- tion of an honest mind can never die. No title of honor, no recorded merit, no mark of distinction, can exceed that lasting appellationan honest man. He that lies bnried under such an epitaph has more said of him than volumes of history can contain. The payment of debts, after fair discharges, is the clearest title to such a character that I know and how any man can begin again, and hope for a bless- ing from Heaven, or favor from man, without such a resolution, I know not.* We thus see that De Foes notions of obligation were nowise lax or lati- tudinarian. As an illustration of his practice, let us take the following recorded testimony to his honesty, by one who was rio friend of his, from a pamphlet entitled, A Dialogue between a Dis- senter and the Observator, published in 1702. I must do one piece of justice to the man, observes the writer, though I love him no better than you do. It is this, that meeting a gentleman an a coffee-house, when I and everybody else were railing at him, the gentleman took us up with this short speech Gentlemen, said he, I know this De Foe as well as any of you, for I was one of his creditors, compounded with him, and discharged him fully. Several years afterwards lie sent for me, and, though he was clearly discharged, he paid me all the remainder of his debt voluntarily, and of his own accord; and he told me, that as far as God should enable him, lie intended to do so with everybody. When he had done, he desired me to set my hand to a paper to acknowledge it, which I readily did, and found a great many names to the paper before me; and I think myself bound to own it, though I am no friend to the book he wrote any ~ ore than you. The work alluded to was the Shortest Way with the Dissenters. of which we shall have occasion to speak hereafter. Dc Foe is thus as far as possible exonerated from blame, and in this unhappy failure must be regarded rather as an unfortunate than as a fraudulent or unprincipled speculatoras many of the contempo- rary scribblers, without knowing him sufficiently, were accustomed to consider him. The passage just quoted affihrds as satisfactory a proof of his upright and honorable efforts and intentions as can be reasonably desired. To avoid the operation of the harsh and crushing laws, however, that were then in force against insolvents, he appears to have absconded, and lived in hiding for some time under blighted teputation. To what part of the king- dom he retired is not clearly known; but as it was ascertained that he once resided for a while at * Review, iii. 14748. Bristol, it has been supposed that he did so at the time when he was under apprehensions from his creditors. There is even a tradition which seems to countenance the supposition. A gentleman of that city informed Mr. Wilson that one of his ancestors had a distinct recollection of De Foe, and often spoke of having seen him walking in the streets of Bristol, accoutred in the fashion of the times, with a fine flowing wig, lace ruffles, and a sword by his side; also that.he there obtained the name of The Sunday Gentleman, because, through fear of bailiffs, he did riot dare to appear in public upon any other day. The fact of De Foes residence in Bristol, either at this or some later period of his life, is further corroborated by another circumstance, mentioned to Mr. Wilson by the friend alluded to. By this it appears that there was formerly a tavern in Castle Street, known by the sign of the Red Lion, and kept by one Mark Watkins, an intelligent man, who had been in better circumstances, and whose house was in considerable repute among the Bristol tradesmen, who were then in the habit of resorting to it after dinner for the purpose of smoking their pipes, and hearing the news and small talk of the day. Here Do Foe, following the custom of the times, is reported to have spent an occasional afternoon among the company, and was well known to the landlord under the same name of The Sunday Gentleman. Mark Watkins, who appears to have been a humorist, is said to have entertained his guests in after-times with a very whimsical account of a strange man, who went about Bristol clothed in goat-skins, and who he affirmed was none other than the celebrated Robinson Crusoe.* The house, we believe, is still standing, but has been latterly reduced to a mere pot-house, so that none need go there to make inquiries about De Foe. Having at length come to a satisfactory arrange- ment with his creditors, De Foe was enabled to emerge from his retirement. For two years he had been living in unpleasant and involuntary leisure; not indeed altogether idly; for, notwithstanding the pressure of his affairs, he contrived to write a book. This was his Essay upon Projects, which, however, he did not find it convenient to publish till nearly five years afterwards. Of his proceed- ings subsequent to his liberation he himself gives us the following account : Misfortunes in busi- ness having unhinged me from matters of trade, it was about 1694 when I was invited by some mer- chants, with whom I had corresponded abroad, and some also at home, to settle at Cadiz, in Spain; and that with the offers of very good commissions. But Providence, which had other work for me to do, placed a secret aversion in my mind to quitting England upon any account, and made me refuse the offers of that kind, to be concerned with some eminent persons at home, in proposing ways and means to the government for raising money to supply the occasions of the war then newly be- gun.~ The war in question was an expensive one with France, entered on in support of the title of King William, and for the purpose of arresting the conquests of Louis XIV.; and it was part of Dc Foes business to devise and suggest taxes, to enable the government to carry on the enterprise. Some time after this, says he in continuation of the statement just quoted, I was, without the least application of mine, and being then seventy miles from London, sent for to be the accountant * Do Foes Life and Times, by Walter Wilson. t Appeal to Honor and Justice, pp. 5, 6. 52 DANIEL DE FOE. to the Commissioners of the Glass-Duty, in which service I continued to the determination of their commission. This appointment he received in 1695, and held it till the suppression of the tax in August, 1699. About this time, or somewhat earlier, De Foe became a partner in certain tile-and-brick-kiln works at Tilbury in Essex, and continued to he the acting secretary of the concern for several years. Here he had a country-house, overlooking the river Thames, and seems to have lived for some time in thriving circumstances. With his share of the proceeds of the business, and his settled salary as accountant to the Glass Commissioners, he is once inure in a condition to pay his way, and by dint of thrift do something to reduce his former debts. As a scheme, perhaps, for raising addition- al ways and means, he now, in 1796, ventured on the publication of the before-mentioned Essay upon Projects. Herein he descants largely and sensibly on politics, commerce, and benevolence. He expatiates on banks, highways, and bankrupt- cy; and amongst other things advocates a plan for the promotion of friendly societies, formed by mutual assurance, for the relief of the members iii seasons of distress. By way of experiment, he proposes to establish one for the support of desti- tute widows, and another for the assistance of sea- men. The same thought, says he, might be improved into methods that should prevent the gen- eral misery and poverty of mankind, and at once secure us against beggars, parish-poor, alms-houses, and hospitals; by which not a creature so misera- ble or so poor but should claim subsistence as their due, and not ask it of charity. We have here the seminal idea of all the friendly clubs, savings banks, and mutual associations, that have since been established in the country. Another of his projects was the formation of institutions for culti- vating certain neglected branches of education. He conceived that there might be some academy or society for correcting, purifying, and establishing the English langua~e, such as had been founded in France under Cardinal Richelien. The work of this society, says he, should be to encourage polite learning, to polish and refine the English tongue, and advance the so-much-neglected faculty of correct language; also to establish purity and propriety of style, and to purge it from all the ir- regular additions that ignorance and affectation have introduced; and all those innovations of speech, if I may call them such, which some dog- matic writers have the confidence to foster upon their native language, as if their authority were sufficient to make their own fancy legitimate. A similar notion had been started in the time of Charles II. by Lord Roscommon and the poet iDryden; and when iDe Foe had thus revived it, it was again renewed by Prior, and subsequently by Swift: though, in spite of promises from various influential persons, no attempt was ever made to carry it into practical effect, and it remains to this day as a matter worthy of consideration. Schemes for military schools, and for lunatic asylums of an educational description, were also ingeniously propounded, and their practicability and advantages very ably stated in this treatise. But perhaps the most interesting of all the authors projects is that of an institution for the better edu- cation of young women. As Dc Foes remarks on such a subject will tend to illustrate the compara- tive progress which has been made in female cul- ture since the time at which he wrote, let us here insert some sentences on the dignity of woman. We reproach the sex every day, says he, with folly and impertinence, while, I am confident, had they the advantages of education equal to us, they would be guilty of less than ourselves. lIe com- plains that the women of his time were taught merely the mechanical parts of knowledgesuch as reading, writing, and sewinginstead of being exalted into rational companions; and he argues that men in the same class of society would cut a sorry figure if their education were to be equally neglected. The soul, he observes, xvas placed in the body like a rough diamond, and must be pol- ished, or the lustre of it will never appear. And it is manifest, that, as the rational soul distinguishes us from brutes, so education carries on the distinc- tion, and makes some less brutish than others. Why, then, should women be denied the benefit of instruction? If knowledge and understanding had been useless additions to the sex, God would never have given them capacities, for he made nothing needless. What has woman done to for- feit the privilege of being taught? Does she plague us with her pride and impertinence? Why do we not let her learn, that she may have inure wit? Shall we upbraid woman with folly, when it is only the error of this inhuman custom that hinders her being made wiser? * * * Women, in my observation of them, have little or no difference, but as they are or are not distinguished by educa- tion. Tempers, indeed, may in some degree influ- ence them, but the main distinguishing part is their breeding. If a woman be well-bred, and taught the proper management of her natural wit, she proves generally very sensible and retentive; and, without partiality, a woman of sense and manners is the finest and most delicate part of Gods crea- tion, the glory of her Maker, and the great instance of his singular regard to man, to whom he gave the best gift. either God could bestow, or man receive: and it is the sordidest piece of folly and ingratitude in the world to withhold from the s x the due lustre which the advantages of education give to the nat- ural beauty of their minds. A woman, well-bred and well taught, furnished with the additional ac- complishments of knowledge and behavior, is a creature without comparison. Her society is the emblem of sublimer eiijoymeiits; she is all softness and sweetness,love, wit, and delight ; she is every way suitable to the sublimest wish; and the man that has such a one to his portion has nothing to do but to rejoice in her and be thankful. Persons imperfectly acquainted with De Foe will have probably been unprepared to give him credit for sq much elegance and delicacy of sentiment as are here displayed, and which certainly were nowise very common among the wits aiid gentlemen of his age. With regard to the substance and execution of this work, Mr. Walter Wilson has accurately re- marked, that it abounds in strong sense, couched in nervous language, and contains sonic specimens of good writing. IJis sentiments upon the various topics discussed are delivered with diffidence, but at the sanie time with beconiing freedom; and they discover a versatility of genius, accompanied by cor- rect thinking, that arc not often united in the same individual.* It is a book, indeed, which is now but little known, and rarely read, but it is never- theless in several respects worthy of perusal. Of its sterling and substantial merit there needs no * iDe Foes Life and Times. 53 DANIEL DE FOE. hatter testimony than that of Dr. Franklin, who would give an undouhted overthrow to the tyranny found it in his fathers library, and, alluding to it, of vice. But we of the Plebji find ourselves justly says, he received impressions from it which infiu- aggrieved in all this work of reformation, and the enced some of the principal events of his after-life, partiality of the reforming rigor makes the real After the publication of this performance De Foe work impossible. Our laws against all manner of several times exercised his pen in writing pamphlets vicious practices are very severe; but these are all on various political topics, hut produced nothing cobweb laws, in which the small flies are caught, of any moment till in 1698 he came forward with and the great ones break through. My Lord Mayor a tract designed to further the reformation of has whipped about the poor beggars, and a few manners in the nation. The exceeding dissolute- scandalous females have been sent to the House of ness of the times had offended the moral sense of Correction; some alehouse keepers and vintners the constitutional monarch, who had been used to have been fined for drawing drink on the Sabbath- stricter ways, and accordingly, in his speech of the day; but all this falls upon us of the mob, as if all present year, he signified a desire for improvement. the vice lay among us. We appeal to yourselves, I esteem it, said he, one of the greatest advan- whether laws or proclamations are capable of tames of the peace, (which had lately been conclud- having any effect while the very benches of our ed,) that I shall now have leisore to rectify stich cor- justices are infected T is hard, gentlemen, to he ruptions and abuses as have crept into any part of punished for a crime by a man as guilty as our- the administration during the ~var, and effectually selves; this is really punishiug men for being poor, to discourage profaneness and immorality. The which is no crime at all ; as a thief may be said to House of Commons, in their address to the king be hanged not for the theft, but for being taken. shortly afterwards, commended his design, declar- De Foe is not backward to acknowledge that in the ing their readiness to support him; and, in con- upper classes are to be found many persons of honor currence with his majestys pious intentions, they and good morals, but their partiality in the execo- most humbly desired that his majesty would issue tion of the laws rendered them almost as criminal Out his royal proclamation, commanding all judges, as the vicious. The quality of the person, he justices of the peace, and other magistrates, to put observes, has been a license to the open exercise in speedy execution the good laws that were now of the worst crimes; as if there were any baronets, in force against profaneness and immorality, giving knights,or esquires in the next world, who, because encouragement to all such as did their duty therein. of those little steps custom had raised them on The kiu~, in reply, said that he could not but be higher than their neighbors, they should be cx- very well pleased with an address of this nature, empted from the divine judicature; or, as Captain and he would give immediate directions to the Vratz, who was hanged for murdering Esquire several particulars they desired. Accordingly, a Thynne, said, God would show them some re- proclanmation was issued for preventing and punish- spect, as they were gentlemen.~ ing the crimes and vices specified; and the Parlia- Upon the importance of example in the higher tnent passed a bill to the same effect. In the like orders, he remarks If my own watch goes false, spirit the Archbishop of Canterbury drew up some it deceives me and no one else; but if the town excellent rules for the government of the clergy, clock goes false, it deceives the whole parish. The which he communicated in a circular letter to the gentry are the leaders of the mob; if they are lewd bishops of his province. 1hese several proceedings and drunken, the others strive to imitate them; if Dc Foe looked upon with interest, but only with a they discourage vice and intemperance, the others partial satisfaction, inasmuch as he perceived that will not be so forward in it, nor 50 fond of it. Of the pains and penalties instituted to effect the in- another class of persons who, by the theory of their tended reformation were all likely to have a one- position, should be patterns of all goodness, lie sided and exclusive operation, and would fall mainly, observes The clergy also ought not to count if not entirely, on those classes of society who were themselves exempted in this matter, whose lives called the common people. Io serve the cause have been, and in some places still are, so vicious of these, he therefore published Ihe Poor Mans and so loose that it is well for England we are not Plea, in relation to all the Proclamations, Declara- subject to be much priest-ridden. The parson tions, Acts of Parliament, & e., which have been or preaches a thundering sermon against drunkenness, shall be made, or published, for a Reformation of and the justice of peace sets my poor neighbor in Manners, and Suppressing Immorality, in the the stocks, and I am like to be much the better for Nation ; and in this production he presented the either, when I know, perhaps, that this same par- public with a view of the subject not theretofore son and this same justice were both drunk together considered, and facetiously suggested a variety of but the night before. A vicious parson that preaches reformations which, in his opinion, were required well, but lives ill, may be likened to an nuskilful to insure the success of the rigorous measures con- horseman who opens the gate on the wrong side, templated. and lets other folks through, but shuts himself out. In searching for the proper cure of an epidemic The application of this rough doctrine, he con- disease, says be, physicians tell us it is first eludes, is, in short, both to the gentry and clergy necessary to know the cause. Immorality is with- Physicians, heal yourselves! out doubt the present reigning distemper of the For his own labors in the cause of reformation, nation; and the kimig and parliament, who are in- De Foe informs us that he was signally ill treated, deed the proper physicians, seem nobly inclined to and calumniated as a reproacher of magistrates, undertake the cure. But as a person under the a reviler of the rulers of the people, and a meddler violence of a disease sends in vain for a physician, with what was not his own business. The work, unless he resolves to make use of his prescrip- however, was not without its influence omm the pmub- tion, so in vain does the king attenopt to reform a lie; we are told that ami honest, learned, and nation, unless they are willing to reformn themn- judicious clergyman was even pleased to commuend selves. After noticimig with due commendation it fromn the pulpitthougb, as De Foe relates, he the efforts of the public authorities, he says was censured for the sermon, and is hated to this These are great things, and, if well improved, day (eight years afterwards) by all the leading men DANIEL DE FOE. of the parish of St. J, not far from the city of London. The offence which the book occasioned no doubt arose out of its truthfulness, and its close and cutting application to the actual conditions of the times. The writer was obviously correct in his position, that unless wickedness in high places could be reduced, it would be both folly and unfair- ness to attempt its suppression in the low. Some time towards the close of the century, De Foe appears to have taken up his residence at Hackney, for the sake, probably, of being nearer to the metropolis, the grand scene of political movements and adventures. Here we find him with a settled household, a married man with chil- dren around him, one of which was born here in 1701, as is evidenced by an entry of baptism in the parish register. How long he had been married, or what fair lady he had linked his fate with, are points of his biography which have never come to light. Being, however, on the verge of forty, it is probable that he was by this time a paternal per- sonage of some standing, since in his writings there are repeated allusions to his large family. For in- stance, in 1706, he speaks of seven children; and subsequently, in 1712, he refers to six, one having died in infancy during the interval, in 1707. For the rest we can obtain no authentic information about his circumstances, though, from what subse- quently transpired, and will be related in its course, we have reason to presume that he continued to maintain a prosperous and respectable position. Meanwhile, with every occasion involving the interests or honor of the country, he is certain to be ready with a pamphlet. On all questions he can find a shrewd word to saystanding armies, changes of ministry, international diplomacy, the qualifications necessary for a member of Parliament on all these, and on whatever else may for the time be uppermost as a topic for discussion, he will boldly and emphatically, like a genuine English- man, speak his mind. Nor can it be denied that what he says is often extremely pertinent to the subject. Take, for instance, one brief sentence of advice from his Six Distinguishing Characters of a Parliament Man, published on the occasion of a general election in 1701. It is his opinion that the persons chosen should be thoroughly satis- fied with the order of things established at the Revolution ; therefore neither Papists nor Jacobites, nor other declared or supposed friends of James IL., can be reasonably considered eligible. To such lie has nothing to say, provided they keep the peace, and do not push themselves into public notice: but, says he, to single out such men to serve the nation in a Protestant parliament, and to advise King William in matters of the highest importance, is a thing so l)reposterous, that I know not what to say to it; t is like going to the devil with a case of conscience. It seems to us, that at the time when this was written, it was a most necessary and important caution, and precisely the one which a wise and prudent man would give in order to guard against the dangers that were themi most threatening to the state. There is a pene- trating and statesmanlike discernment in it, much beyond the capacity of ordinary politicians, who are famous for never seeing a difficulty till they find themselves no longer able to contend with it. Now, however, about this same year of 1701, the serpents of faction are beginning to raise their heads and hiss, malignantly designating our re- spectable Dutch monarch by the opprobrious epitbet of foreigner. This term had then a very offensive meaning, and there was even danger that simple-minded people might be signally misled by it. De Foe therefore puts saddle and bridle upon a sort of Pony-Pegasus, and valiantly rides forth with a poetical satire called the True-born Englishman. It opens with the memorable lines, which have since become a proverb Wherever Gcd erects a house of prayer, The devil always builds a chapel there And t will be found upon examination The latter has the largest congregation. The object of the satire is to reproach the authors discontented countrymen with ingratitude for abus- ing King William as a foreigner, and to humble their pride for despising some of the newly-created nobility on the same account. lie accordingly traces the elevation of our ancient families to the favor of the Norman Conqueror, who partitioned out the country among his followers, and by his usurped prerogative made them lords and deni- zens. lie conceives that the descendants of a no- bility so created have not much to boast of; and he thus strongly exposes their inordinate pride of ancestry These are the heroes who despise the Dutch, And rail at new-come foreigners so much; Forgetting that themselves are all derived Froni the most scoundrel race that ever lived A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones, Who m usacked kingdoms and dispeopled towns. The Plot and painted Briton, trcaclicrous Scot, By hun~er, theft, and rapine, hither brought; Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes, Whose red-haired offspring everywhere remains; Who, joined with Norman-French, compound the breed, From whence your True-born Englishmen proceed; And lest by length of time it be pretended The climate may the modern race have mended, Wise Providence, to keep us where we are, Mixes us daily with exceeding care. Descending to the age of Elizabeth, the satirist notices the further mixture of the breed by the in- flux of foreigners, who fled hither on account of persecution; as also happeiied from another rea- son in time of her successor The first seven years of whose pacific reign Made him and half his nation Englishmen. To rebuke the vanity of ancestry, he adds T is well that virtue gives nobility, Else God knows where we had our gentry Since scarce one family is left alive Which does not from some foreigner derive. Of sixty thousand English gentlemen Whose names and arms in registers remain, We challenge all our heralds to declare Ten families which English-Saxon are. Wherefore, he goes on to say A True-horn Englishman s a contradiction In speech an irony, in fact a fiction A nietaphor invented to express A man akin to all the universe. From thus exploring the origin of the race, Dc Foe proceeds next to discuss its character Fierce as the Briton, as the Roman brave, And less inclined to conquer than to save Eager to fight, and lavish of their blood, And equally of fear and forecast void. The Pict has made em sour, the Dane morose, False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse. 55 DANIEL DE FOE. What honesty they have the Saxons gave them, o And that, now they grow old, begins to leave them. The climate makes them terrible and bold And English beef their courage does uphold No danger can their daring spirit pall, Always provided with their bellies full. The remainder of the work is chiefly occupied in lauda tions of King William, and in exposing the ingratitude of the nation towards its deliverer. After reviewing his principal exploits, and the services and virtues of some of his associatesin the Revolution, the author concludes his poem by as- serting the predminence and supreme nobility of character Could but our ancestors retrieve their fate, And see their offspring thus degenerate how we contend for birth , nd names unknown, And build on their past actions, not our own; They d cancel records, and their tombs deface, And then disown the vile degenerate race For fame of families is all a cheat, Tis PERSONAL VIRTUE ONLY MAKES US GREAT! It should be mentioned that the immediate occa- sion of this performance was the previous publica- tion of a sorry pamphlet, in ill-natured verse, and called The Foreigners, by a writer whom Dc Foe alludes to as one Mr. Tutchin. It seems to have been quite a scurrilous affair; and it was to correct the impression which it was making on the public that the True-born Englishman was pro- duced. IDe Foes work had a wonderful success, having passed in a short period through not less than nine authorized editions, and appears to have been pirated to an almost unlimited extent. Of the cheap editions published without the authors con- currence or assent, it is said that not less than 80,- 000 copies were disposed of in the public streets of London.* He tells us, that had he been permit- ted to enjoy the profits of his own labor, this pro- duction would have yielded him above a thousand pounds. t It is difficult to judge of the merit of a satire when the occasion which produced it has passed away; but if, as seems reasonable, we are to esti- mate its value by its effects, we shall be justified in considering the True-born Englishman as an excellent performance. Its poetical attractions, to be sure, are no~vise extraordinarythere being in the entire work scarcely aii inkling of what we are now accustomed to esteem poetry. Yet the versifi- cation is often good,aud the whole piece is replete with sense, vigor, and ingenuity. It discouraged that vain reliance upon the merits of rank and ances- try which it was intended to expose; it reproved, and so far moderated the national vanity, as to silence the absurd pretensions to superiority over other nations which were then so commonly in- dulged in; arid it contributed to the promotion of a more general respect for natural talent and personal integrity in the kingdom. Of its reformatory efficacy the author appears to have been individually satis- fied. l\Iany yeats after its publication he said in allusion to it: None of our countrymen have been known to boast of being True-born Englishmen, or so much as to use the word as a title or appellation, ever since a late satire upon that national folly was published, though almost thirty years ago. Noth- ing was more frequent in our mouths before that nothing so universally blushed for and laughed at since. The time I believe is yet to come for any author to print it, or any man of sense to speak of * Life and Times, by Walter Wilson. t Preface to the Collection of his Writings, vol. ii. it in earnest, whereas, before, you had it in tha best writers, and in the most florid speeches, bafore the most august assemblies, upon the most solemn occasions. ~ Notwithstanding the injuries which he sustained by the piratical practices of the times, the publica- tion of the Irue-born Englishman had a favor- able effect upon the authors fortunes, inasmuch as it gained for him a personal introduction to King William. having read and admired the poem, his majesty desired to become acquainted with De Foe, and accordingly sent for him to the palace, and sub- sequently employed him in various State transac- tions, the nature of which, however, has been scru- pulously kept secret. It is nevertheless apparent that he was held in great estimation by the king, and received from him many substantial marks of his approbation. This is indeed the roost prosper- ous period in his private history. By royal favor and the character of events, by success and popular- ity in authorship, he has now attained to consider- able elevation in worldly respectability, and is even understood. to keep his carriage. The best of times, nevertheless, as the proverb goes, are liable to change. On the 8th of March, 1702, King William, after a reign of thirteen years, is lying dead at Kensington; and Dc Foe speedily discovers that he has no longer any friend at court. The new reign appears propitious for reaction. The whigs, whose influence in the national councils had been declining during the latter days of Wil- liam, now find theniselves entirely displaced by their old enemies, the tories. Moreover, High-Church sectarianism is lifting up the darkness of its coun- tenance, and intolerance and persecution are at work, striving to coerce private consciences. A grand controversy arises about occasional con- formity ; argumentations begin, all more or less affecting the interests and comfort of Dissenters. Now also arose that eminent distinction between High Church and Low, which was destined to play so large a part in the history of those days, and to survive even down to the present writing. Accord- ing to Burnet, all that were opposed to rational liberty, held up the standard of persecution for the faith, and were inclined to practise extreme and violent measures against Dissenters, were called High Churchmenand some of them gloried in the namewhile all that treated the Dissenters with temper and moderation, diligently labored in their cures, and approved of the principles of the Revolu- tion, were considered to be ill affected to the inter- ests of the church, arid were therefore denominated Low Churchmen. The High-Church faction being now in the ascendency, all toleration was repu- diated, and the most strenuous exertions made ta sub- ject the Nonconformists to tyrannous and degrading disabilities. Parson Sacheverell, probably the great- est blackguard of his day, sounded the pulpit drum at Oxford, declaring that every man who desired the true welfare of the church ought to hang out the bloody flag and banner of defiance against Dissenters. Great was the war of pam- phlets thereuponnewspapers having not as yet become sufficiently established to be the organs of party contests. In such a threatening state of things, De Foe could not fail to advance into the fray, to the help of the oppressed against the mighty. Tract after tract, loaded with argument and sharp derision, was accordingly fired off in rapid and continuous * Use and Abuse of the Marriage-Bed, pp. 4001. 56 DANIEL DE FOE. successionwounding and convincing some, and irritating and offending many more. Argument, however, was upon the whole sadly ineffective, and fell for the most part as harmlessly as cannon-balls on feather-beds. De Foe therefore thinks it well to change his tactics, and instead of argument to try the force of satire. Being well acquainted with the writings of his opponents, and seeing the absurd lengths to which their intemperate dispositifins urged them, it occurred to him that by personating the character of a high churchman, and judiciously employing his gift of irony, he might perhaps he able to expose the wickedness and folly of the ascendant faction in such a way as would in some sort frustrate their intolerant designs. With this view he produced and published The Shortest Way with the Dissenters; or Proposals for the Establishment of the Church. London, 1702 a work which apparently recommended the infliction of the harshest pains and penalties on those unquiet people, and which, being published without the authors name, was at first misapprehended, as well by the party whom it was designed to serve as by that against whose malignity and perverseness it was intentionally directed. At the two universities it was accepted as the work of a violent high churchman, and under that impression was con- siderably applauded; while the Dissenters, on the other hand, gave proof of their incapacity for under- standing banter, by being seriously alarmed lest the inflictions derisively proposed should be actually put in exercise. The work begins with some bitter reflections on the principles and conduct of Dissenters, showing how iidmieal they are to the peace and well-being of the nation. Ihen, after a review of their fanati- cal irregularities from the Ileriod of their original secession, and some remarks on the injudicious lenity which had been exercised towards them by all preceding governments, the author proceeds to propose and justify a resolute course of persecution. He declares that ~ we can never enjoy a settled, uninterrupted union and tranquillity in this nation till the spirit of whiggism, faction, and schism is melted down, like the old money. Accordingly, the Dissenters must be all exterminated. Nothing short of their absolute destruction will suffice to render us a national and unmixed church. I do not prescribe fire and fagot, says he ; but as Scipio said of Cartha,,e, Delenda est ~artkago they are to be rooted out of this nation, if ever we will live in peace, serve God, or enjoy our own. How so desirable a constimmation is to be effected he declines to say, leaving it to those who have a right to execute Gods justice on the nations and the churchs enemies. For the rest, he continues T is vain to trifle in this matter. The light, foolish handling of them by fines is their glory and advantage. If the gallows instead of the compter, and the galleys instead of the fines, were the re- ward of going to a conventicle, there would not be so many sufferers. The spirit of martyrdom is over. They that will go to church to be chosen sheriffs and mayors would go to forty churches rather than be hanged. if one severe law was made, and punctually executed, that whoever was found at a conventicle should be banished the nation, and the preacher hanged, we should soon see an end of the talethey would all come to church, and one age would make us all one again. To talk of five shillings a month for not coming to the sacrament, and of one shilling a week for not coming to church, is such a way of converting people as never was known! This is selling them a liberty to trans- gress for so much money. If it be not a crime, why dont we give them full licensel And if it be, no price ought to compound for the committing it, for that is selling a liberty to people to sin against God and the government. We hang men for trifles, and banish them for things not worth naming; hot an offence against God and the church against the welfare of the world and the dignity of ruligio~shall be bought off for five shillings! This is such a shame to a Christian government, that t is with regret I transmit it to posterity. One wonders how any human heads could have been so obtuse as not to perceive the irony of passages such as this. Perceived, however, it was not, but was, as we have said, entirely mistaken both by Churchmen and Dissenters. In one of his later works our author says The wisest Church- men in the nation were deceived by this book. Those whose temper fell in with the times hugged and embraced itapplauded the proposalfilled their mouths with the arguments made use of there- in ; and an eminent Churchman in the country wrote a letter to his friend in London, who had sent him the hook, in the following words : SIR I received yours, and with it that pamphlet which makes so much noise, called The Shortest Way with the Dissenters, for which I thank you. I join with that author in all he says, and have such a value for the book that, next to the 1-Joly Bible and the sacred comments, I take it for the most valuable piece I have. I pray God put it into her majestys heart to put what is there proposed into execution. Yours, & c In 1705 Dc Foe stated in his Review that he had the original of this letter then in his possession. A similar story is re- lated by Oldmixon, which it is unnecessary to repeat. As soon as it was discovered that De Foe was the author of the Shortest Way, the church and tory party were at no loss to comprehend his object; and that which had been lately lauded as a production inferior only to the Holy Bible and the sacred coin- ments, was now (lenomlncud as infamous, and its author deemed deserving of a public prosecution. As the tempest of rage began to rise, De Foe thought it prudent to conceal himself, though it was soon ap- parent that any lengthened concealment would be impossible; witness the Gazette of London for the 10th of January, 1703, offering a reward for his ah)prehension, on the grounds that he is charged with writing a scandalous and seditious pamphlet.~ We are much indebted to this document for pre- serving to us an intelligible description of his out- ward man. He is, says the Gazette, a middle- sized, spare man, about forty years old; of a brown complexion, and dark-brown colored hair, but wears a wig; a hooked nose, a sharp chin, gray eyes, and a large mole near his mouth ; was horn in London, and for many years was a hose-factor in Freemans Yard, in Cornhilh, and is now owner of the brick and pantile works near Tilbury Fort in Essex. Whoever shall discover the said Daniel De Foe to one of her majestys justices of the peace, so he may be apprehended, shall have a reward of 50, which her majesty has ordered immediately to be paid upon such discovery. On the 25th of Feb- ruary, as an instance of further animosity against De Foe, a formal complaint was made of his publi- cation in the House of Commons, when, some of the obnoxious passages being read, it was resolved That this book, being full of false and scandal- ous reflections on this Parliament, and tending to promote sedition, be burnt by the hands of the 57 DANIEL DE FOE. common hangman to-morrow in New Palace- Yard. Accordingly, on the morrow, in New Palace- Yard there is a remarkable display of fire-works. The Caleraft of the day, with drunken, bewildered countenance, in second-hand, uncertain small clothes, indefinite jerkins, and other nondescript apparel, has been summoned to execute the last severity of the law upon a book. Suitable official persons, indignant zealots, and the universal tag- rag and bob-tail of the neighborhood are also as- sembled to see it done; and there, amid execrations and huzzaings, the free-spoken thought of a bold man, so far as authority can do it, is suppressed. By every burnt hook, however, the world is more effectually enlightened; and every suppressed or expunged word reverberates through the earth from side to side. There always comes a day of stern retaliation for such indignities. The minds of men are at last aroused; reason looks out, and justifies her own, and malice finds all her work in vain.* Nay, are not the authors popularity and importance, even at the time, thereby extended and advanced l In one of his works IDe Foe relates that he had heard a bookseller in King James time affirm, that if he desired a book to sell, he would, if possible, have it burnt by the hands of the common hangman. The book being thus, as we suppose, burnt, the printer and publisher were next taken into custody, and thereupon Dc Foe came forward and surren- dered. While in retirement he had prepared A Brief Explanation of a late Pamphlet, hoping by its publication to correct the misunderstanding which had led to a hasty censure of his book; nevertheless, he was indicted for libel and sedition, and was subsequently brought to trial on the charge. Bench, bar, and jury were alike preju- diced against him, so that there was little difficulty in obtaining a verdict favorable to his prosecutors. Being pronounced guilty, he was sentenced to pay a fine of 200 marks to the queen ; stand three times in the pillory; find sureties for his good behavior for seven years; and be imprisoned during the pleasure of her majesty. In retired durance, under lock and key in Newgate, he has accordingly to compose himself as well as possible, and contem- plate his prospects. To a man who lately kept his carriage, and is now in a manner ruined, that side of things can hardly present anything very cheering. However, it is consolatory to him to reflect that his niisfortunes have befallen him, not as the consequences of his misconduct, but as an unjust and violent infliction from malicious men on account of deeds whereof his conscience can ap- prove. He therefore abates not a jot of heart or hope. The indignities awarded him can neither humble his erect spirit, nor cover his manifest in- tegrity with disgrace. But now, will the reader endeavor to imagine a warm July daysay the 29thof the year 1703, and go with us to Cornbill, and see what is doing near the Royal Exchange there l There is rather a great crowd, and much anxiety among certain parties to behold a man who has been largely talked about, and is now expected to be visible, standing in the pillory. Fearless on high stood unabashed De Foe. He conceives, indeed, that he has not any cause to be abashed. In the calm consciousness of honor, * Emerson. he can brave the jeers and insults of his enemies, and is even protected from their missiles by the presence and activity of many steadfast friends. The ignominy of his situation is all reflected on his persecutors. The very populace regard him with sympathy and interest, and in generous frater- nity greet him with triumphant acelamations. Instead of pelting him with stones, they de~k the pillory with garlands, and raising a voluntary con- tribution, in strong liquor, purchased with the same, audaciously proceed to drink his heelih! That same night, too, a Hymn to the Pillory was proclaimed about the streetsa new and daring satire, in which IDe Foe denounced the injustice and defied the power of the ministry, and boldly vindicated his own integrity. With mingled play- fulness and sadness he begins Hail! hieroglyphic state-machine, Contrived to punish fancy in; Men that are men in thee can feel no pain, And all thy insignificance disdain. Contempt, that timise neW word for shame, Is, without crime, an empty name; A shadow to amuse mankind, But never frights the wise or well-fixed mind. Virtue despises human scorn, And scandals innocence adorn. Apostrophizing still further this State-Trap of the Law, he says Thou art no shame to truth and honesty, Nor is the character of such defaced by thee Who suffer by oppressive injury. Shame, like the exhalations of the sun, Falls back where first the motion was begun; And he who for no crime shall on thy brows appear, Bears less reproach than they who placed him there. Then, in a burst of indignation, he commands the pillory to break silence, and publish forth the facts and merits of his case to all the world Thou bugbear of the law! stand up and speak; Thy long misconstrued silence break; Tell us who t is upon thy ridge stands there, So full of fault, and yet so void of fear; And from the paper in his hat, Let all mankind be told for what. Tell them it was because he was too bold, And told those truths which should not ha been told; Extol the justice of the land Who punish what they will not understand. The last lines are stinging Tell them the men that placed him here Are scandals to the times Are at a loss to find his guilt, And cant commit his crimes. By this discreditable prosecution IDe Foe was once more ruined in his circumstances. In conse- quence of his imprisonment, he could no longer attend personally to his pantile works, from which his income was principally derived; and, owing to his lengthened absence, they were finally obliged to be given up. By this affair, he tells us, he lost no less a sum than 3500. He had now a wife and six children dependent upon him for support, and was utterly without resources, save such as must be realized by the produce of his pen. In this trying situation his virtue appears to have been put to rather a severe test. It is reported by Old- mixon, that the Earl of Nottingham, one of the ministers who had been most prominently concerned 58 DANIEL DE FOE. in the prosecution, either went or sent to him in Newgate, offering him the mercy of the govern- ment if he would discover who set him on to write the Shortest Way. But this was a needless piece of tampering, and was treated with the con- tempt which it deserved. The same writer ob- serves, that all who ~vere acquainted with Dc Foe were satisfied that he needed no setting on to put such a trick on a party of whose understandings as well as principles he had no good opinion. The calumny propagated by Leslie in his Rehearsal, to the effect that he would have made any submis- sion to have heen excused the pillory, seems to be entirely without foundation. Alluding to it after- wards, De Foe remarked Till he can tell the world what submissions they were he offered to make, it must stand for one of the most scandalous slanders any man that pretends to truth can be guilty of. ~ As the unscrupulous Leslie does not appear to have ever furnished the requested infor- mation, the matter stands precisely as it did at the time when his statement was contradicted. Dc Foe remained in Newgate for nearly two years. lie did not however sit down idly and dis- consolately to lament his fate. An honest man may even live in prison, and turn his hours to account. Pen and ink were not denied him, nor had he lost the habit or ability for using them. It is true he had to cultivate literature under difficulties; hut he nevertheless at this time produced various political works of merit, and also collected and republished a new edition of most of his former pieces. As an occasional recreation, he set him- self to study the habits and characters of the prisoners, which he afterwards turned to use when writing such works as Colonel Jacque and Captain Singleton. ]\Loreover, he started a Review, apparently the first that was ever pub- lished in the country. It differed materially from the reviews of modern days, being rather akin to the Tatlers and Spectators which succeeded it, and were partly modelled on its plan. In this work De Foe discoursed from week to week on all the various questions relating to trade~ politics, and ecclesiastical affairs, which occupied the popular attention, much after the fashion of Cobbetts Registerthe work being also conducted with as much boldness and udfla~ging energy as ever dis- tinguished Cobbett ; while, in point of moral con- sistency and genuine liberality of scope, it was far superior to anything the latter at any time wrote or contemplated. The Review was published without intermission for nine yearsduring the greater part of the period three times a week, and was exclusively the production of De Foe himself a feat of authorship which few men (perhaps Cobbett alone) can parallel. Possibly a collection of its best parts, if judiciously selected and ar- ranged, might still be xvorth the reading. The same remark would indeed apply to several of the authors now neglected writings. His Reasons against a War with France has been characterized as one of the finest political tracts in the English language. By such a round of occupations as we have indicated, De Foe was enabled to render his incarceration tolerable, and to realize in some degree that fine sentiment of Lovelace Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage: Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermita~,e. Meanwhile, by his unrelenting wit, and powers of argument and satire, he continued to assail and mortify the ruling powers, until at length, it is said, they tried hard to enlist him in their service, and thus silence his opposition. IDe Foe, however, preferred poverty to the shame of serving a cause which his soul abhorred. He would nowise condescend to release himself from prison by the sacrifice of his integrity; and accord- ingly he continued in confinement as long as his persecutors remained in power. A change of ministry was at length the occasion of his deliver- ance. The high-flying administration had so embarrassed and distracted the country, that it became at last a matter of necessity to transfer the government to men of more moderate and enlight- ened principles. Shortly after Harleys accession to office, in 1704, the queen, through him, became acquainted with the merits of De Foe, and was made conscious of the injustice of his punishment. Desirous of mitigating it, she sent relief to his wife and family through Lord Godolphin, and even for- warded a sufficient sum to De Foe himself for the payment of his fine, and for the rest of the expenses attending his discharge from prison. Mr. Chal- mers has observed that Harley approved probably of the principles and conduct of iDe Foe, and doubt- less foresaw that during a factious age, such a genius might he converted to many uses. Be this as it may, in the beginning of August, 1704, Daniel found himself at large, without, as far as we can learn, having stipulated to render any political service to the government. On his liberation, De Foe quitted London, and went down to the Montpelier of Suffolk in other words, to Bury St. Edmunds, in that county a town famous for its pleasant situation and wholesome air; famous also for the number of gentry who reside in the vicinity, and for the polite and agreeable conversation of the company resort- ing there.* Here, among excellent and steady friends, he appears to have enjoyed for a while the sweets of recovered liberty. It was, however, only for a while, for, ere many months had passed, certain slanderous news-writers in London had propagated a report that lie had fled from justice, and that warrants were out for his apprehension. This was something of an annoyance to IDe Foe; but to set the matter right, he immediately wrote to the secretary of state to inform him where he was, and offered to go up to London by post, to answer any charge that should be brought against him. In reply to this, he was informed that there was no charge whatever against him, nor had any officer, messenger, or other person received any order or warrant to apprehend him, or was in any way authorized to disturb him in his avocations. A statement of all this De Foe published in his Review, injustice to the government and him- self, as the only course open to him for effeotually silencing the slander. Of the kind and amount of persecution which De Foe endured we can have in these days no adequate conception, much less anything at all corresponding to it in experience. By his politi- cal enemies he was not only subjected to perpetual slander and abuse, but was even frequently neces- sitated to guard himself from violence. His writ- ings were scandalously misquoted, and even re- printed in a garbled and mutilated state, to suit party purposes; his works pirated and hawked * Review, iii., 218. * Tour through Great Britain, i.; Letter i., p. 71. 59 60 DANIEL DE FOE. about to defraud him of the emolument arising and beneficially. Writing on the subject, he says from the legal sale of them; his property inter- I have told Scotland of improvement in trade, cepted and made away with in the most lawless wealth, and shipping, that shall accrue to them on manner; his Reviews were stolen out of coffee- the happy conclusion of this affair; and I am houses, to prevent them from being read; his pleased doubly with this, that I am likely to be oi~e debts were bought up, that proceedings might be j of the first men that shall give them the pleasure instituted against him; and he was even at last of the experiment. On returning to London, at obliged to withhold his name from his works, as the beginning of 1708, he was rewarded with a fixed the only chance of successfally introducing them salary and an appointment under government. In to the public. The published attacks upon him the course of the two succeeding years he several were endless. T is really something hard, times visited Scotland, and when the Union was said he on one occasion, that after all the mortifi- completed, he published in Edinburgh the first cation they think they have put upon a poor abdi- edition of his work on The Union of Great cated author, in their scurrilous street ribaldry Britain. and bear-garden ucage, some in prose, and some in Though De Foe had accepted employment under their terrible lines they call verse, they cannot yet a tory government, he does not appear to have ever be quiet; but whenever anything comes out that rendered the ministry any service in the ~vay of does not please them, I come in for a share of the advocating their expressly tory measures. He not answer, whatever I did in the question. Every- unnaturally abstained from writing against the thing they think an author deserves to be abused cabinet which employed him; but less perhaps for must be mine~* He was subjected to a simi- from any sympathy with their general proceedings lar ill-treatment in connection with many of his than from the perception that his former labors had personal transactions. The following statement been imperfectly comprehended, and u ugenerously may be given as a curious specimen of the manner received by the party he had designed to benefit. in which his conduct was watched and punished The popular cause of the day had become un- even by private individuals. On board of a faithful to itself. IDe Foe desired universal tolera- ship, says he, I loaded some goods. The tion; but it needed only to raise the absurd cry of master is a whig, of a kind more particular than the Church in danger ! to divert the people ordinary, lie comes to the port, my bill of lading from the pursuit of their personal and proper liber- is produced, my title to my goods undisputed; no ties. Any one at all acquainted with the history claim, no pretencebut my goods cannot be found. of the period will remember the disturbances and i he ship sailed again, and I am told my goods are intense excitement occasioned by the proceedings carried back; and all the reason given is, that they of Sacheverell, who at one time went about London belong to De Foe, author of the Review, and he with a mob at his heels, demolishing dissenting is turned about, and writes for keeping up public meeting-houses; and, being unwisely brought to credit. Thus, gentlemen, I am ready to be assas- trial by the government, could not be more than sinated, arrested without warrant, robbed and plun- nominally punished, by reason of his popularity, dered by all sides: I can neither trade nor live; and the boundless sympathy which his insensate and what is it all for1 Only, as I can yet see, conduct excited in the public. During the early because, there being faults on both sides, I tell part of 1710 the nation was almost wholly occupied both sides of it too plainly.j- It needed a brave with the political aberrations and ill-judged trial of and steadfast spirit to bear up under long years of this notorious divine. For the time, nothing was treatment such as this; and few things are more so fashionable as discussions on church politics; the honorable to IDe Foe than the perfect and manly very women and children, and even the desolate patience with which he sustained so many hard- street-gentry, who might have been supposed likely ships and vexatious trials. With a gay hut yet to remain neutral in such a matter, arranged and resolute self-possession, he set his face against the paraded themselves in the hostile attitudes of party, slings of fortune, and, like Luther under supernatu- vociferously demanding of their neighbors, and of ral illusion, hurled his ink-stand at the devil! everybody they encountered, What side, friend, Some time after his release from Newgate, IDe takest thou in this important controversy l Do Foe wrote voluminously on the subject of the Foe has given us a felicitous parody of this aston- Union then pending between England and Scot- ishino state of things, which pleasantly reminds us land, and thus acquired a measure of ministerial of Camille Desmoulins pithy sketches of the favor which led to his employment in the service movements and debates of the Palais Royal during of the government. His acquirements and gen- the earlier days of the first French revolution. He oral knowled0e, in combination with his acuteness says The women lay aside their tea and choco- and moral probity, seemed to render him well late, leave off visiting after dinner, and, forming qualified to undertake matters of delicate diplo- themselves into cabals, turn privy-counsellors, and macy, and he was therefore sent to Scotland to settle the affairs of state. Every lady of quality further and facilitate the Union. It appears that has her head more particularly full of business than his labors in that country obtained for him general usual; nay, some of the ladies talk of keeping approbation. While in Edinburgh, he took occa- female secretaries, and none will be fit for the sion to publish a complimentary poem, under the office but such as can speak French, Dutch, and title of Caledonia, in honor of Scotland and Latin. Gallantry and gayety are now laid aside the Scottish nation. In his Review, which con- for business; matters of government and affairs of tinued to be regularly published in his absence, he state are become the province of the ladies; and no carefully represented the advantages which would wonder if they are too much engaged to concern succeed to the Union in a favorable, but not deln- themselves about the common impertinences of life. sive light; and he appears to have exercised his Indeed, they have hardly leisure to live, little time influence and performed his mission most judiciously to eat and sleep, and none at all to say their pray * Preface to an Elegy on the Author of the True-born ers. If yon turn your eye to the park, the ladies Englishman. f are not thereeven the church is thinner than 1 Review, vii. 490. usual, for you know the mode is for privy-councils 1)kNIEL DE FOE. to meet on Sundays. The very playhouse feels the effects of it, and the great Betterton died a beggar on this account. Nay, the Tatler, the immortal Tatler, the great Bickerstaff himself, was fain to leave off talking to the ladies during the doctors trial, and turn his sagacious pen to the dark subjects of death and the next world, though he has not yet decided the ancient debatewhether Plutos regions were, in point of government, a kingdom or a com- monwealth. ~ Under circumstances such as these, though De Foe never altogether abstained from writing, he for a considerable time remained com- paratively quietdeeming it best to restrict himself mainly to observation, and to await the issue of events. There are men horn into the world who cannot rest. They seem to be driven by the spirit into wildernesses of strife, difficulty, enterprise, and ceaseless labor. They must do or die. The old Ulysses returns after long years of warfare and ad- venture from the conquest and desolation of the towers and plains of Troy, and seeks to repose his age on his still hearth in Ithaca, and to live in the blameless dispensation of laws befitting to the people over whom he rules. Much has he seen and known cities of men and manners, climates, councils, governments ; himself not least, but honored of them all ; yet finds that all experi- ence is an arch where-through gleams that untrav- elled world whose margin fades forever and for- ever when he moves. He cannot rest from travel How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! He counts it vile to store and hoard himself, while his gray spirit is still yearning in desire to follow knowledge, like a sinking star, beyond the utmost bound of human thought. Therefore will he quit again his patrimonial dominions, and say to his brave comrades My purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. So likewise our hardy De Foe, after reposing for a while in easy circumstances, at Newington, ventures forth again on the troublous waters of political contention, with the view of opening peoples eyes to the advantages of the Protestant soccesston and the danger to be apprehended from the success of the Pretender. He first of all wrote, A Seasonable Caution and Warning against the Insinuations of Papists and Jacobites in favor of the Pretender. London 1712. But finding that this, although an argu-~ mentative and persuasive pamphlet, did not produce the effect which he desired, he pursued the subject in three other successive publications, all written in that style of keen and subtle irony which he had employed so ingeniotisly in the Shortest Way with the Dissenters. The titles of the pamphlets, as remarked by Mr. Wilson, corresponded ~vith the ruse de guerre which he played off in their con- tents : beingI. An Answer to the Question that Nobody thinks ofnamely, What if the Queen should diet 2. Reasons against the Succes- sion of the House of Hanover; with an Inquiry how far the Abdication of King James, supposing it to be Legal, ought to affect the Person of the Pretender. Si populus vult decepi decipiatur. 3. * Review, vii. 69. And what if the Pretender should Come~ or Some Considerations on the Advantages and Real Consequences of the Pretenders possessing the Crown of Great Britain. In these papers De Foe sought, by a caricatured use of the Jacobite argu- ments then in vogue, to expose the absurd and dan- gerous pretensions of that party, and thus to con- solidate the interests of the Protestant succession. While ironically urging the people to bring in the Pretender to settle their existing differences, he was in reality ridiculing the folly of such a course of action. Unluckily, neither whig nor tory could understand irony, so that Dc Foes pamphlets were collectively construed into a libel against the glorious constitution, and he was suspected and represented to be in league with the discarded Stuarts. Worse still, a certain stupid patriot of the whig connectionWilliam Benson by name was so totally blinded and bewildered in the affair, as to institute proceedings against the author, with the view of bringing him to trial for high treason. One morning there enters a sinister-looking mortal with a judges warrant, and carries off Dc Foe a second time into the limbo of Newgate! liar- Icy, however, interferesassures the queens maj- esty that this prosecution has been instigated by prejudice and sheer mistake, and succeeds in pres- ently obtaining the prisoners release. Such, nevertheless, was the importunity of his enemies, that his ministerial friends considered it advisahle to certify his acquittal under cover of a formal royal pardona circumstance to which De Foe could never afterwards allude without expressions of astonishment, saying sarcastically that he might have been as reasonably accused of being a Mo- hammedan; and he playfully desired it might be engraved upon his tomb, that he was the only Englishman who had been obliged to seek a royal pardon for writing in behalf of the Hanoverian suc- cession. All this happened in 1713. On the 1st of Au- gust in the following year there were signs of mourning about the royal palace. Queen Anne had given up the ghost, and Elector George of Hanover reigned in her stead. The xvhigs were now again installed in the administration, and the government of the country went onas it hap- pened. That seems to be the peculiarity of a whig cabinet. Having heen connected with the former ministry, Dc Foe was entirely discounte- nanced, thou gli he, more than any man, had advo- cated and supported zealously all the most impor- tant principles and political doctrines which the whigs pretended to admire. His public career was now drawing to its close. He had been a political writer for more than thirty years; the blossoms of old age were springing about his head; the fires of life, which had long blazed fiercely, were fading at length into quiet embers; and so, with a still regret, but with a spirit resigned to the inevitable, he gradually withdrew from the turbu- lence of political agitation. His spirit is saddened, but not broken; though fiursaken arid calumniated, he is not cast down; yet the long years of enmity and persecution, whose progress has marked his brow and surrounded his eyes with wrinkles, have left him little either to hope for or enjoy. With a plaintive complacency he can say No man has tasted different fortunes more, And thirteen times I have been rich and poor. Pondering over the manifold ill-usage he had re- ceived both from enemies and friends, and mindful 61 62 of the aggravated misconstruction that had been put upon his acts and writings, he determined, as a final labor, to furnish a defence of his life and conduct; and with that intent began to write An Appeal to Honor and Justice. Thereby he trusted to justify himself before his candid contem- poraries and posterity; but crc the work was properly completed the wearied and overburthened man xvas suddenly struck and prostrated by a fit of apoplexy. For a time he lay in helpless stupor, and hovering apparently on the brink of dissolution but eventually his vigorous constitution recovered from the attack, he regained comparative health and vigor of mind and heart, and came back into the world as from the resurrection of the dead. Now it was that, quitting the thorny tracks and encumbered regions of contemporary party inter- ests, he came forth to entertain society as a popular author for all time. Numerous instructive and amusing works sprung rapidly from his pen, which, like another Aarons rod, seemed to blossom with unexpected buds of pleasantness. Amon~ these, in 1719, appeared the first part of the famous Robinson Crusoe, which, notwithstandin~ De Foes well-known capacity for producing salable and popular books, had to be carried round the trade before he could obtain a purchaser for the copyright. Happy and astonished was the pub- lisher when, after selling four editions in as many months, he discovered that he had cleared a thou- sand pounds by his lucky bargain The amount of tIme authors remuneration is not known, but considerin,, the difficulties attending the publication, it may be reasonably supposed to have been nowise very large. The success of the ~vork, however, induced him to produce a continuation, or second part, which was also well received, and obtained as great a popularity as the first. From that day to the present Robinson Crusoe has been a familiar and household hook; and it seems no more likely to become obsolete than the use of household bread, or the faculties of the mind to which it is addressed. We have no space to speak at any length of the great and peculiar merits of this production. The first thing that strikes every reader of discrimina- tion is the c sy matter-of-fact character of the narrative. The whole story reads like a reality. The incidents and adventures arc for the most part~ extraordinarythat is to say, are altogether out of the ordinary courses anti chances of experience yet they are so related, so ingeniously and beauti- fully woven, that the mind feels it difficult to regard them as any way fictitious or imaginary. Such aim air uif plausibility pervades the story, that you say at once, If this thing were really true in fact, it would be thus, and thus only, represented. Then consider time boundless extent of details, the vast and variotis knowledge here cunningly bitt unobtrusively set forth. What insight into the inventive and constructive powers of man-what extensive arid accurate geographywhat large acquaintance with the manners and customs of sav- ages, seamen, mechanics, husbaudmen, merchants, travel ers, adventurerswhat knowledge of the surface and productions of the earth, the inistito- tions and characteristics of different countries and races of mankindwhat inexhaustible aimd natural invention! From the beginning to the end, time author seems to write of what he knows. He can put a face offact on the most inconsiderable adven- ttmre. You would say he had seen the things which DANIEL DE FOE. he describes, and known intimately every character he delineates. Along with time wonderful reality of the narrative must be taken the appropriate and natural reflections by which it is diversified. What a store of worldly prumdencewhat exquisite illus- trations of the mysteries of life and Providence how calm and benign a vindication of the ways of God to man! Then how fine a revelatioum have we of time atithors sentimemuus and sympathieswith what generous interest and compassion does he look upon time varied creeds, systems, and opinions of his fellow-beings, and with what just discernment does he detect some presence of goodness in them all, thereby teaching us a kindly toleration, and soliciting us by insinuation to exercise that holy charit.y which hopeth all timings! Here arid there too are strains of pathosgentle and tender as the sighings of a living heart in deep distress, or as the monrufual reverberances of winds dying away utpon the, sea. But the grand peculiarity of the tvork is its immense display muf worldly wisdom, its wide and varied represeumtatiumn of the interests, motives, rewards, arid considerations whereby men are actuated to their welfare or their sorrowits deep and thouc~htful lessons of a soul most largely learned in the daily and hourly experiences of human life. This is a qtmality in the work which is rarely noted, inasmuch as few people read it at a time of life when it would be observable ; the impressions of the generality are derived from the throng of interesting imicidents, the wild charm of the situation, the fascinating and wondrous tale that took prusessiumn of their curiosity when that was the only faculty they were desirous of gratifying. But the boomk is imbued with a deep philosophy of ex- perience. Rousseau was not beside himself when he called it a most excelleuut treatise on natural education. In the province of common sense there are few things wiser than somc of Dc Foes maxims and observatiomis. And uione of these are elaborated or introduced obtrusively, but arise naturally out of the story, and are brought in, if not precisely in the right place, at least exactly where uimey would appear, supposing time narrator to have been dealing in actual matter uf fact. Then the style of the book, thought houmely and unpretend- ing, is really beautiful in its simplicity, reminding one of a plain face lighted up with the gloxv of excellent conversation. Al together, we cannot wonder at time exceeding popularity of this work, seeing that it is adapted to every umoderstanolino, us calculated to excite the dullest curiosity, appeals generously and naturally to time sympathies, and though not devoid uinfprejuudices, nor even of super- sutmomis, is nevertheless, upon the whole, admirably replete witia thc best instruictimmn, amid temids by its pumre trutthifulness and simplicity tom exalt and edify the moral nature, while it seems designed mainly to delight the imagination. If the poet Gray may be excused for his indolent and luxurious desire to be lying ctmninually on sofas, readimug eternal new novels of Crebillon and Manivaux, it seems to our fancy that every schoolboy might be far more reasonably justified in saying, what has doubtless some time been the longing of his somul, Be it mine to loll forever nuder shtady summer trees, and reaul everlasting volumes of Robinson Crusoe. Of De Foes minor fictions we shall not be aide to say mitch. The moist notable are The Life, Adventures, and Piracies of the Famous Captain Singleton~ The History of Duncan Campbell The Fortunes and Misfortunes of Mull Flan- ders Colonel Jacque The Fortunate Mis- DANIEL DE FOE. 63 tress; or, the Life of Roxanaand Memoirs most beautiful and interesting of these popular of a Cavalier. In all these there is the same compositions is the Journal of the Plague-Year simplicity of design, the same graphic minuteness, a work which is often received as a veritable the same prompt invention and unvarying attract- history, but which is in fact as much a fiction as ivenessin short, all the qualities that are displayed Robinson Crusoe or Captain Singleton. It in a more prominent degree in the authors most is true that in this touching narrative the author memorable production There is in all the same has contrived to mingle much that is authentic with si giiificant sign of geniusthe power of imagining the inventions of his own brain ; but it is impossi- a character within a certain natural ranbe of action hle to distinguish the real from the imaginary; and and existence, and of investing the conception with the whole is such a likeness to the dread original, that hreath of life and individuality which it is the as to confound the sceptic, and encircle him with privilege of genius alone to give. They all, how- enchantments. So faithful, says one, is the ever, belong obviously to a period less pure in cx- portrait of that distressing calamityso cnttre its ternal manners than our own. Some of them con- accordance with what has been delivered by other tam scenes and descriptions of profligacy and crime writersso probable the circumstances of all the which cannot be recommended to indiscriminate stories, and so artless the style in which they are perusal ; and though Dc Foe professes to have, and dejivered, that it would baffle the ingenuity of any really has, a moral aim in what he writes, yet it one but De Foe to frame a history with so many is more than doubtful whether the exciting pictures attributes of truth upon the basis of fiction.* of vice and passion which he represents will not had he not been the author of Robinson Cm- generally prove more attractive to uncultivated sue, says Scott, De Foe would have deserved fancies than the moralities he would inculcate. immortality for the genius which he has displayed One thing, nevertheless, may be said in favor of in this work. these worksthey do not outrage nature or consist- The whole of Dc Foes later writings were cncv. Dc Foes villains never prosper; they find exceedingly successful, and enjoyed an extensive the whole course and force of the world against circulation. While these were severally proceed- them; misery walks behind them like their ing in rapid succession from his pen, he occasion- shadows; and in the end they either die in misery, ally interrupted them to bring out sonic temporary or are reformed through the discipline of a severe pamphlet. In a preface to one such publication he repentance. Vice is exhibited only that it may be alludes to his growing infirmities and advancing detested and avoided. Still, Falstaffs observation age, but ho Ids himself prepared to devote his still about the polluting tendencies of pitch is deserving remaining days to the advocacy of the public in- of remembrance ; and those who cannot handle it terests. I hope, says he, the reader will without danger of defilement, will always do wisest excuse the vanity of an officious old man, if, like not to meddle with it. Cato, I inquire whether or no I can yet do anything In any notice of Dc Foes smaller fictions, the for my countryV curious Relation of the Apparition of Mrs. In all his latter years Dc Foe appears to have Veal, published in 1705, ought not to be omitted, realized a reasonable income by his writings; yet it Could a ghost story, nuder any circumstances, he is melancholy to contemplate him journeying heav- true, one could not fimil to believe this; it scents as ily towards the end, tormented with severe dis- plain a~id itudubitable matter of fact as ever passed eases, and plundered and abandoned by an ungrate- before ones eyes. The air of credibility in it is ful son, whose despicable worthlessness fulfilled astonishing. As Sir Walter Scott says, The old Jacobs most intolerable apprehensionshurry- whole is 50 distinctly circumstatitial that ~verc it ing down his fathers gray and venerable hatrs riot for the impossibility, or extretne improbability with sorrow to the grave. Re passed out of this at least, of such an occurrence, tIme evidence could earthly existence on the 24th April, 1731, amid his cot hut support the story. One regrets that it remains were interred in the burial-ground of Buui- should have been published with no worthier in- hill Fields. tention than that of puffing a dull book which the publisher could miot sell Drelinconrt~s Book of We have thus briefly traced the life of the Coimsolations against the Fear of Death. This greatest political pamphleteer, and most ingenious, work is iimcideimrally spoken of approvingly by the ready writer for the million that England has pro ghost, aorl the story, as desired, Imad the effect of duced. We have necessarily left tmnnoticed atm im- creatimmg a large denmammd Ibm it. TIme whole timing muense umumnber of his writinugs ; Nit we have, of course was a bold and indefensible imupositiomi nevertheless, seen something of the manner of moan one of the few transactiomis oh Dc Foe which we he ~vas. It seems to us that lie is of a timid who cant imeither justify nor are careful about excmusimug, ~vill bear lookimug at. A hraxvny, resolute, sub- thought we do not know that it is a xvhmit mnmore die stantial Englishman one whmo, with might on his creditable tItan any of the innumerable other Ibrums side, was afraid of acinher man our devil. Not of pulibry miow regularly l)ractised by people who entirely a pacific man, but rather cotistitumiommally pass muster for very hionorable men, pugnacious ; and decidedly given to imiterhbre with Besides the works already mentioned, Dc Foe ammythming and everything about him which he published several other popular productions, some ought fancy to be going wrong. Judging from of which still cootimmuc in circulation. Thiene is these two hundred publications, it would appear the Religious Courtship, known fanmihiarly to that he did niot particularly cultivate tIme ordimmarily most serious servant-maids, auth formerly a favor- commendable talemut of silence. He had very ite companiomi of their tnistresses. Christian little talemit of that Itimid. Re was a downright Conversation and tIme Family Instructor have noisy man ; prompt to controvert, comitentious, likewise thicir admirers in certain quarters; amid promme to disputation ; a perpetual motion of the Complete Tradesman is also miow amid themi thoughts and thick-flowing fancies, which he had republished for the benefit of apprentices who may have pocket-money to invest in it. But by far the * Dc Foes Life and Times, by Walter Wilson. 64 neither power nor disposition to suppress, but of which, on the contrary, he must and would deliver himself. But what he had to say was full of sense and spirit, and therefore worthy of the saying. People listened to him too with more than common attention. There is no doubt that De Foes influ- ence among the masses was greater than that of any of the political writers uf his age. lie was the Cobbett of the Revolution. But he was a greater and a better man than Cobbetta man of firmer principle, and a larger candor and liberality. He is considerately tolerant: he is a lover of fair- nessa faithful respecter and adorer of the truth. The views he gives you have been arrived at by just insight, or at any rate by a careful examina- tion of the things and circumstances to which they are related. As a man, he seems to have been eminently sin- cere in his opinions. Whatsoever he believed, that he boldly professed, and manifested in his con- ductwithout disguise. There is no trimming to party notions, no adroit subserviency, no cunning dodgery to avoid the censures of such as may think fir to take offence, but a direct and manly expres- sion of all he thinks and feels. Honesty is en- grained in his constitution. We have seeii how he stood by his obligations in the midst of his mis- fortunes, and how he strove to realize in his trans- actions the high integrity which he admired and recommended in his teachings. He is the sanse man in his life as in his writings. In these he has a keen regard for whatsoever is graphic, interesting, and effective. Though he hopes to instruct, he desires to be enteftaining; but in every case lie maintains a purpose, and writes for the ac- complishment of an end. There are few instances in iiistory of so entire a surrendering of a man s self to popular and public interests. He lives, moves, arid has his being in one lifelong effort to advance the public welfare. As a politician, all his arms are honest, liberal and rhorou0hgoing. In all his endeavors he seeks to advance his object, and not himself; and in this respect he is worthy of universal admiration. How immeasurably su- perior, in this respect, to many a popular cham- pion of later times! His patriotism and philan- thropy are not profrssionalare not assumed for purposes of vanity or ambition ; but they are real arid earnest, and lie grudges not to suffer penalties on their account. There is in him an admirable self-abandonmenta prodigal generosity, which sacrifices comfort, interest, arid reputation for the sake of a cherished cause that has been conscien- tiously and deliberately embraced. This, indeed, is the sign of a true patriotthat he will give him- self arid boast nothing of his devotion; counting lightly of all losses and chagrins, and, if needs be, accepting even Dantons reckless and stern alterna- tive Let my name be blighted, if so only the good cause may prosper ! iDe Foe evidently lived much under a blighted name ; but he en- dured it with a noble patience, and along with it manifold persecutions, exposures in the pillory, and imprisonnmentsand all for an able and manly advocacy of principles and sentiments whose truth arid rightfulness time has since asserted and con- firmed. Whoso marcheth in the van of the unborn events, under the contempt and hootings of the faithless, let him courageously hold on along the path of his aspirations My faith is large in Time, And that which shapes it to some perfect end. PHILIP, MY KING.-.-.A RIVER AT NIGHTFALL. From Chambers Journal. PHILIP, MY KING. Who bears upon his baby brow the round and lop of sovereignty. LOOK at me with thy large brown eyes, Philip, my King! For round thee the purple shadow lies Of babyhoods regal dignities. Lay on my neck thy tiny hand With loves invisible sceptre laden; I am thine Esther, to command Till thou shalt find thy queen-handmaiden, Philip, my King! Oh, the day when thou goest a-wooing, Philip, my King! When those beautiful lips are suing, And, some gentle hearts bars undoing, Thou dost enter, love-crowned, and there Sittest all glorified Rule kindly, Tenderly, over thy kingdom fair, For we that love, ah! we love so blindly, Philip, my King. I gaze from thy sweet mouth up to thy brow, Philip, my King; Ay, there lies the spirit, all sleeping now, That may rise like a giant, and make men bow As to one God-throned amidst his peers. My Saul, than thy brethren higher and fairer, Let me behold thee in coming years! Yet thy head needeth a circlet rarer, Philip, my King! A wreath, not of gold, but palm. One day, Philip, my King, Thou too must tread, as we tread, a way Thorny, arid bitter, and cold, and gray: Rebels within thee, and foes without Will snatch at thy crown. But go on, glorious, Martyr, yet monarch! till angels shout As thou sittest at the feet of God victorious, Philip, the King! From Leigh Hunts JournaL A RIVER AT NIGHTFALL. flOWERS, rest! the night is come, In the west the last light fades; Either shore lies dark and dumb, Changing fast to formless shades. Dark the anchored vessels ride, iDark against the sky the spars, Giddily swung from side to side, Oft the tall masts blot the stars. But the river takes no shade From the darkness closing round; In its own great light arrayed, Shining more, and more profound. And the current, as though freed, Doubly seems to increase and run, One nright almost dream its speed To the Infinite hastening on. Fair illusion ;but more fair, And ilhirsion none is this, That in this dark world of care, Buried hopes, and fleeting bliss, Oft the immortal human soul, When around her all things lower, Most pursues her glorious goal, In herself renewing power. 4 MY NOVEL; OR, YAR~ETIES IN ENGLISH LiFE. 500K IV.INITIAL CHAPTER :cOMPRISING MR. CAXTON S OPINIONS ON THE MATRIHOmAL STATE, SUPPORT D BY LEARNED AUTI-IORITIES. IT was no bad idea of yours, Pisistratus, said my father graciously, to depict the heightened affections and the serious intentions ofSignior Ric- cabocca by a single strokeHe left off his spec/a- des! Good. Yet, quoth my uncle, I think Shakspeare represents a lover as falling into slovenly habits, neglecting his person, and suffering his hose to be ungartered, rather than paying that attention to his outer man which induces Signior Riccabocca to leave off his spectacles, and look as handsome as riatore will permit him. There are different degrees and many phases of the passion, replied my father. Shakspeare is speaking of an ill-treated, pining, wobegone lover, much aggrieved by the cruelty of his mis- tressa lover who has found it of no avail to smarten himself up, and has fallen despondently into the opposite extreme. Whereas Signior Ric- cabocca has nothing to complain of in the barbarity of Miss Jemima. Indeed, he has not ! cried Blanche, tossing her head forward creature ! Yes, my dear, said my mother, trying her best to look stately, I am decidedly of opinion that, in that respect, Pisistratus has lowered the dignity of tile sex. Not intentionally, added my mother mildly, and afraid she had said something too bitter; but it is very hard for a man to de- scribe us women. The captain nodded approvingly; Mr. Squills smiled; my father quietly resumed the thread of his discourse. To continue, quQth he. Riccabocca has no reason to despair of success in his suit, nor any abject in moving his mistress to compassion. He may, therefore, ver~properly tie up his garters and leave off his spectacles. What do you say, Mr. Squills ffor, after all, since love-making cannot fail to be a great constitutional derangement, the experience of a medical man must be the best to consult. Mr. Caxton, replied Squills, obviously flat- tered, you are quite right; when a man makes love, the organs of self-esteem and desire of ap- plause are greatly stimulated, and, therefore, of course, he sets himself off to the best advantage. It is only, as you observe, when, like Shakspeares tover, he has given up making love as a bad job, and has received that severe hit on the ganglious which the cruelty of his mistress inflicts, that he ne~lects his personal appearance; he neglects it, not because he is in love, but because his nervous system is depressed. That was the case, if you remember, with poor Major Prim. He wore his wig all awry when Susan Smart jilted him; but I s~t it all right for him. By shaming Miss Stuart into.repentance, or getting him a new sweetheart l asked my uncle. Pooh ! answered Squills, by quinine and cold bathing. We may therefore grant, renewed my father, that, as a general rule, the process of courtship tends to the spruceness, and even foppery, of the individual engaged in the experiment, as Voltaire has very prettily proved somewhere. Nay, the Mexicans, indeed, were of opinion that the lady at least ought to continue those cares of her person even after marriage. There is extant, in Saha- guns History of New Spain, the advice of an Aztec CCCLX. LIVING AGE. VOL. xxix. 5 or Mexican mother to her daughter, in which she says That your husband may not take you in dislike, adorn youiself, wash yourself, and let your garments be clean. It is true that the good lady adds Do it in moderation ; since, if every day you are washitig yourself and your clothes, the world will say that you are over-delicate ; and particular people will call youtape/ron tine- mdxoch! What those ~vords precisely mean, added my father modestly, I cannot say, since I never had the opportunity to acquire the ancient Aztec languagebut something very opprobrious and horrible, no doubt. I dare say a philosopher like Signior Ricca- boecca, said my uncle, was not himself very Tape/ron tinewhat dye call it?and a good healthy English wife, like that poor affectionate Jemima, was thro~vn away upon him. Roland. said my father, you dont like fireigners; a respectable prejudice, and quite nat- ural in a man who has been trying his best to he~v them in pieces, and blow them up into splinters. But you dont like philosophers eitherand for that dislike you have no equally good reason. I only implied that they were not much ad- dicted to soap and water, said my uncle. A notable mistake. Many great philosophers have been very great beaux. Aristotle was a notorious fop. Buffon put on his best laced ruffles when he sat down to write, which implies that he washed his hands first. Pythagoras insists greatly on the holiness of frequent ablutions and Horace who, in his o~vn way, was as good a philosopher as any the Romatis producedtakes care to let us know what a neat, well-dressed, dapper little gen- tleman he was. But I dont think you ever read the Apology of Apuleins? Not Iwhat is it about B asked the captain. About a great many things. It is that sages vindication from several malignant charges amongst others, and principally imndeed, that. of being much too refined and efli~minate for a philosopher. Nothing can exceed the rhetorical skill with x~Inich he excuses himself fur usingtooth-powder. Ought a philosopher, he exclaims, to allow anything unclean about him, especially in tile nuouthtine mouth, which is the vestil)ule of tIne soul, the gate; of discourse, the portico of thought Ah, but ~miliarnus [the accuser of Apuleins] never opens his mouth but for slander and calumnytooth- powder would indeed be unbecoming to hire! Or,,. if he use any, it will not be my good Arabian tooth-powder, but charcoal and cinders. Ay, his teeth should be as foul as his language And yet even the crocodile likes to have his teeth cleaned ; - insects get into them, and, Inorrible reptile though he be, me opens mis jaws inoffensively to a faitinfol - dentistical bird who volunteers Inis beak for a tooth- pick. My father was now warm inn the subject Inc had started, and soared miles away from Riccabocca and My Novel. Atnd observe, he exclaimed - observe with what gravity thi eminent Pla- tonist pleads guilty to tine charge of having a mir- ror. Why, what, he exclaims, rmnore worthy of tine regards of a human creature tlnan his own image, (nihil respee/abilius homini quam formam seam!) Is not that one of our children the most dear to us - who is called the picture of his father? But take what pains you will with a picture, it cant 65 66 never be so like you as the face in your mirror! Think it discreditable to look with proper attention on ones-self in the glass ! Did not Socrates rec- ommend such attention to his disciplesdid he not make a great moral agent of the speculum? The handsome, in admiring their beauty therein, were admonished that handsome is who handsome does; and the more the ugly stared at themselves, the more they became naturally anxious to hide the disgrace of their features in the loveliness of their merits. Was not Derno~thenes always at his speculum? Did he not rehearse his causes before it as before a master in the art? lie learned his eloquence from Plato, his dialectics from Eubnli- des; hut as for his deliverythere he came to the mirror! Therefore, concluded Mr. Caxton, returning unexpectedly to the subject therefore it is no reason to suppose that Dr. Riccabocca is averse to cleanliness and decent care of the person, because he is a philosopher; and, all things considered, he never showed himself more a philosopher than when he left off his spectacles and looked his best. Well, said my mother kindly, I only hope it may turn out happily. But I should have been better pleased if Pisistratus had not made Dr. Ric- cabocca so reluctant a wooer. Very true, said the captain ; the Italian does not shine as a lover. Throw a little more fire into him, Pisistratussomething gallant and chiv- alrous. Firegallantrychivalry ! cried my father, who li d taken Riccabocca under his special pro- tection why, dont you see that the man is described as a philosopher?and I should like to know when a philosopher ever plunged into matri- mony without considerable misgivings and cold shivers. Indeed, it seems thatperhaps before he was a philosopherRiccabocca had tried the exper- iment, and knew what it was. Why, even that plain-speaking, sensible, practical man, Metel los )~umidicus, who was not even a philosopher, but only a Roman censor, thus expressed himself in an exhortation to the people to perpetrate matri- mony If, 0 Quirites, we could (10 ithout wives, we should all dispense vith that subject of care, (ea molestia careremus;) hot since nature has so managed it, that we cannot live ~vitb women com- [fortably, nor without them at all, let us rather provide for the human race than our own temporary flicity. here the ladies set tip a cry of such indignation, ~l -~t both Roland arid myself endeavored to appease their wrath by hasty assurances that we utterly ~epodiated that damnable doctrine of Metellus Nu- midicus. My father wholly unmoved, as soon as a sullen sileoc xvas established, recornmenced Do not thriiil~ ladies said he, that you were ~vithout voca us at that day; there were many Romans gallant eiir)u~h to blame the censor for a mode of exp~esi~ himself which they held to be equally pol w and injudicious. Surely, said they, with ste ~c plausibility, if Nrimidiciis wished mcii to itmarry lie riced not have referred so peremptorily to the disqriietrides of the connection, and thus have made theta more inclined to trim aw y from matri- mony tha4~ given them a relish for it. But against these critics one honest mail (whose name of Titus Castri ius should not be forgotten by posterity) maintained that Metellus Numidicus could not have spoken msre properly; For remark, said lie, ~tbat M tel as was a censor, not a rhetorician. It MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISh LIFE. becomes rhetoricians to adorn, and disguise, and make thc best of things; but Metellus, sanctus vr a holy and blameless man, grave and sincere, to wlih, and addressing the Roman people in the srilenmn capacity (if censorwas bound to speak the plain troth, especially as he was treating of a subject on which the observation of every day, and the experience of every life, could not leave the least doubt upon the mind of his audience. Still Riccabocca, having (lecided to marry, has no doubt prepared himself to bear all the concomitant evils as becomes a professed sage; arid I own I admire the art with which Pisistratna has drawn the pre- cise woman likely to suit a philosopher. Pisistratus bows, and looks rriund complacently; but recoils from two very peevish and discontented faces feminine. Mr. Ca ton (completing his sentence) Not only as regards mildness (if temper and other household qualifications, hut as regards the very person of the object of his choice. For you evi- dently remembered, Pisistratus, the reply of Bias, when asked his opinion on marriage :~Hru xu~ijV r;iI~, i1 a?cy~~zi~ xui it xu. iv, i;Eir xoo4i~ a r~ eta Pisistratus tries to look as if he had the opinion of Bias by heart, and iiods acquiescingly. Mr. Caxtan. 1hat is, my dears, the woman you would marry is either handsome or ugly; if handsome, she is koind, viz., you dont have her to yourself; if u~ly, she is poindthat is, a fury. I3ut, as it is observed in Aulus Gellius, (whence I borrow this citation,) there is a wide interval between handsome and ugly. And thins En- nius, in his tragedy of Menalippus, uses an ad- mirable expressiom) to designate ~vonien of the proper degree of matrimonial comeliness, such as a philosopher would select. He calls this degree statalormaa rational, mediocre sort of hearity, which is not liable to be either koin6 or poind. Amid Favorinus, who ~vas a remarkably sensible maIm, and came from Provencethie male inhabi- tants of which district have always valued them- selves on their knowledge of love and ladiescalls this said stataforma the beauty (if wivesthe uxo- rial beauty. Ennius says, that women of a s/ala farina are almost always safe and modest. Now Jemima, you observe, is described as possessing this slataforraa! and it is the nicety of your obser- vation in this respect, which I like the niost in the whole of your description of a philosopher~s matri- monial crmurtshiip, Pisistratus, (excepting only the stroke of the spectacles,) for it shows that yorm had properly considered tIme opinion of Bias, and mas- tered all the counter logic suggested in Book v. chapter xi., of Aulus Gelhius. For all that, said Blanche, half-archly, half- demurely, with a smile in the eye, and a pout of tIme Imp, I dont remember that Pisistratus, in the days when he wished to be roost complimentary, ever assured inc that Iliad a s/ala farinaa rational, mediocre sort of beauty. iie~A~e~ I think, observed my uncle, that when heroine, whoever that may be, will not trorible his head much about either Bias or Aimlus Qelhius. CItAPvit mm. MAvmrrMoNv is certainly a great change in life. One is astonished omit to find a notable alteratiomi in ones friend, even if he or she have been only wed- ded a week. In the instance of Dr. and Mrs. Ric- cabocca the change was peculiarly visible. To MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE. speak first of the lady, as in chivalry bound, Mrs. Riccabocca had entirely renounced that melancholy which had characterized Miss Jemirna; she became even sprightly and gay, and looked all the better and prettier for the alteration. She did not scruple to confess honestly to Mrs. Dale, that she was now of opinion that the world was very far from approach- ing its end. But, in the mean while, she did not neglect the duty which the belief she had abandoned serves to inculcate She set her house in order. The cold and penurious ele~ance that had charac- terized the Casino disappeared like enchantment that is, the elegance remained, but the cold and penury fled before the smile of woman. Like Puss- in-Boots after the nuptials of his master, Jackeymo only now caught minnows and sticklebacks for his own amusement. Jackeymo looked much plumper, and so did Riccabocca. In a word, the fair Jemima became an excellent wife. Riccabocca secretly thought her extravagant, but, like a wise man, de- dined to look at the house bills, and ate his joint in unreproachful silence. Indeed, there was so much unaffected kindness in the nature of Mrs. Riccaboccabeneath the quiet of her manner there beat SO genially the heart of the Hazeldeansthat she fairly justified the favor- able anticipations of Mrs. Dale. And though the doctor did not noisily boast of his felicity, nor, as some new married folks do, thrust it insultingly under the nimis unctis naribusthe turned-up noses of your surly old married folks, nor force it gaudily and glaringly on the envious eyes of the single, you might still see that he was a more cheerful and light-hearted man than before. His smile was less ironical, his politeness less distant. He did not study Machiavelli so intenselyand he did not re- turn to the spectacles; which last was an excellent sign. Moreover, the humanizing influence of the tidy English wife might be seen in the improvement of his outward or artificial man. His clothes seemed to fit hint better; indeed, the clothes were new. Mrs. Dale no longer remarked that the buttons were off the wristbands, which was a great satisfaction to her. Bet the sage still remained faithful to the pipe, the cloak, and the red silk umbrella. Mrs. Riccabocca had (in her credit be it spoken) used all becoming and wifelike arts against these three remnants of the 01(1 bachelor Adam, but in vaiii. Acm a a Jasoul of mine, said the doctor ten- derly, I hold the cloak, the umbrella, and the pipe, as the sole relics that remain to me of my native country. Respect and spare them. Mrs. Riccabocca was touched, and had the good sense to perceive that man, let him be ever so much married, ret~ ins certain signs of his ancient indepen- dencecertain tokens of his old identity, which a wife, the most despotic, will do well to concede. She conceded the cloak, she submitted to the um- brella, she concealed her abhorrence of the pipe. After all, considering the natural vihiany of our sex, she confessed to herself that she might have been worse o . But, through all the calm and cheerful- ness of Riccabocca, a nervous perturbation was suf- ficiently perceptible ;~t commenced after the second week of marriageit xvent on increasinu till one bright sunny afternoon, as he was standing on his terrace gazing down upon the road, at which Jackeymo was placedb, a stage-coach stopped! The doctor made a hound, and put both hands to his heart as if he had been shot; he then leapt over the balustrade, and his wife from her window beheld him flying down the hill, with his Ion_ hair stream- ing in the wind, till the trees hid him from her sight. Ab, thought she with a natural pang of con- jugal jealousy, henceforth I am only second in his home. He has gone to welcome his child ! And at that reflection Mrs. Riccabocca shed tears. But so naturally amnialile was she, that she hast- ened to curb her emotion, and efface as well as site could the trace of a stepmothers crief. When this was done, and a silent self-rebuking prayer mur- mured over, the good woman descended the stairs with alacrity, and, summoning up her best smiles, emerged on the terrace. She was repaid; for scarcely had she come into the open air, when two little arms were thrown round her, and the sweetest voice that ever came from a childs lips, sighed out in broken English, Good mamma, love me a little. Love you? with my whole heart! cried the stepmother, with all a mothers honest passion. And she clasped the child to her breast. God bless you, umy wife ! said Riccabocca, in a husky tone. Please take this too, added Jackeymo in Ital- ian, as well as his sobs would let himand he broke off a great bough full of blossoms from his favorite orange-tree, and thrust it into his mistress hand. She had not the slightest notion what he meant by it! CHAPTER itt. VIOLANTE was indeed a bewitching childa child to whom I defy Mrs. Caudle herself (immortal Mrs. Caudle!) to have been a harsh stepmother. Look at her now, as, released from those kindly arms, she stands, still clinging with one band to her new moamma, and holditig out the other to Ric calmoccawitit those large dark eyes swimming ie happy tears. What a lovely smile what an in- genuous, candid brow! She looks delicateshe evidently requires careshe wants the mother. And rare is the wonman who would not love her the better for that! Still, what an innocent infantine bloom in those clear smooth cheeks !and in that slight frame what exquisite natural grace! And this, I suppose, is your nurse, darling? said Mrs. Riccabocca, observing a dark, foreign- looking woman, dressed very strangelywithout cap or bonnet, but a great silver arrow stuck in her hair, and a filigree chain or necklace resting upon her kerchief. Ab, good Annetta, said Violante in Italian. Papa, she says she is to go backbut she is not to go back, is she? Riccabocca, who had scarcely before noticed the voutan, started at that questionexchanged a rapid glance with Jackeymoand then, muttering some inaudible excuse, approached the nurse, and, beck- oning liner to follow him, went away into the grounds. lie did not return for more titan an hour, nor did the woman then accompany him home. He said briefly to imis wife, that the nurse was obliged to return at once to italy, ammd timat she would stay ima the village to cateim time mail ; that, indeed, she would be of into use in ilmeir establishument, as she could not speak a word of Englisim; but that line was sadly afraid Violante would pine for her. And Violante did pine at first. But still, to a child it is so great a thin~ to fimind a paremintto be at Imomethat, ten- der and grateful as Violante was, she could not be immeonsolable ~vhile her father was tlmere to coin- fort. For the first few days, Riccabocca scarcely per- mitted any one to be with his dau0hter but Imim- self. He would not even leave her alone with his Jemima. They walked out togethersat together for hours in the Belvidere. Then by degrees he 67 MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE. began to resign her more and more to Jemimas care and tuition, especially in English, of which language at present she spoke only a few sentences, (previously, perhaps, learned by heart,) so as to be clearly intelligible. CHAPTER IV. THERE was one person in the establishment of Dr. Riccabocca, who was satisfied neither with the marriage of his master nor the arrival of Violante and that was our friend, Lenny Fairfield. Pre- vious to the all-absorbing duties of courtship, the young peasant had secured a very large share of Riccabocca~s attention. The sage had felt interest in the growth of this rude intelligence struggling up to light. But what with the wooing, and what with the wedding, Lenny Fairfleld had sunk very much out of his artificial position as pupil, into his natural station of under-gardener. And on the arrival of Violante, he saw, with natural bitterness, that he ~vas clean forgotten, not only by Ricca- hocca, but almost by Jackeymo. It was true that the master still lent him books, and the servant still gave him lectures on horticulture. But Ricca- bocca had no time nor inclination now to amuse himself with enlightening that tumult of conjecture which the books created. And if Jackeymo had been covetous of those mines of gold buried beneath the acres now fairly taken from the squire, (and good-naturedly added rent-free, as an aid to Jemi- mas dower,) before the advent of the young lady whose future dowry the produce was to swell now that she was actually under the eyes of the fkithful servant, such a stimulus was given to his industry, that he could think of nothing else but the land and the revolution he designed to effect in~ its natural English crops. The garden, save only the orange-trees, was abandoned entirely to Lenny, and additional laborers were called in for the field- work. Jackeymo had discovered that one part of the soil was suited to lavender, that another would grow camomile. He had in his heart apportioned a beautiful field of rich loam to flax; but against the growth of flax the squire set his face obstinately. That most lucrative, perhaps, of all crops, when soil and skill suit, had, it would appear, been formerly attempted in England much more commonly than it is now; since you will find fe~v old leases which do not contain a clause prohibitory of flax, as an impoverishment of the land. And though Jackey- mo learnedly endeavored to prove to the squire that the flax itself contained particles which, if returned to the soil, repaid all that the crop took away, Mr. Hazeldean had his old-fashioned prejudices on the matter, which were insuperable. My forefathers, quoth he. did not put that clause in their leases without good cause; and as the Casino lands are entailed on Frank, I have no right to gratify your foreign whims at his expense.~~ To make up for the loss of the flax, Jackeymo resolved to convert a very nice bit of pasture into orchard ground, which he calculated would bring in 10 net per acre by the time Miss Violante was marriageable. At this, squire pished a little; but as it was quite clear that the land would be all the more valuable hereafter for the fruit trees, he con- sented to permit the grass land to be thus par- tially broken up. All these changes left poor Lenny Fairfield very much to himselfat a time when the new and strange devices which the initiation into book knowledge creates, made it most desirable that he should have the constant guidance of a superior mind. One evening, after his work, as Lenny was re- turning to his mothers cottage, very sullen and very moody, he suddenly came in contact with Sprott the tinker. CHAPTER V. THE tinker was seated under a hedge, hammer- ing away at an old kettlewith a little fire burn- ing in front of himand the donkey hard by, indulging in a placid doze. Mr. Sprott looked up as Lenny passednodded kindly, and said Good evenin, Lenny; glad to hear you be so spectably sitivated with Mounseer. Ay, answered Lenny, with a leaven of ran- cor in his recollections, you re not ashamed to speak to me now that I am not in disgrace. But it was in disgrace, when it wasnt my fault, that the real gentleman was most kind to ~ Arr, Lenny, said the tinker, with a pro- longed rattle in that said Arr, which was not without great significance. But you sees the real gentleman who hant got his bread to get, can hafford to spise his cracter in the world. A poor tinker must he timbersome and nice in his socia- tions. But sit down here a bit, Lenny; Ive suna- mat to say to ye ! To me To ye. Give the neddy a shove out i the vay, and sit down, I say. Lenny rather reluctantly, and somewhat super- ciliously, accepted this invitation. I hears, said the tinker, in a voice made rather indistinct by a couple of nails which he had inserted between his teeth I hears as how you be unkimmon fond of reading. I ha sum nice cheap books in my bag yondersum as low as a penny. ~ I should like to see them, said Lenny, his eyes sparkling. The tinker rose, opened one of the panniers on the ass back, took out a bag which he placed before Lenny, and told him to suit himself. The young peasant desired no better. He spread all the contents of the bag on the sward, and a motley col- lection of food for the mind was therefood arid poi- sonserpentes avibusgood and evil. Here, Mil- tons Paradise Lost, there The Age of Reason here Methodist Tracts, thereTrue Principles of So- cialismTreatises on Useful Knowledge by sound learning actuated by pure benevolenceAppeals to Operatives by the shallowest reasoners, instigated by the same ambition that had moved Eratosthenes to the conflagration of a temple; works of fiction admirable as Robinson Crusoe, or innocent as the Old English Baron, beside coarse translations of such garbage as had rotted away the youth of France under Louis Quinze. This miscellany was an epitome, in short, of the mixed World of Books, of that vast City of the Press, with its palaces and hovels, its aqueducts and sewerswhich opens all alike to the naked eye and the curious mind of him. to whom you say, in the tinkers careless phrase, Suit yourself. But it is not the first impulse of a nature, health- ful and still pure, to settle in the hovel, and loin itself amidst the sewers; and Lenny Fairfield turned innocently over the bad books, and selecting two or three of the best, brought them to the tinker and asked the price. Why, said Mr. Sprott, putting on his spec- 68 MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE. 69 tacles, ynu has taken the werry dearest; them having observed to Riccabocca that the poor child ere he much cheaper, and more hinterestin. looked pale, and ought to be a good deal in the But I dont fancy them, answered Lenny; open air, the wise father ingeniously pretended to I dont understand what they are about, and this Violante that Mrs. Riceabocca had taken a great seems to tell one how the steam-engine is made, fancy to the picture-book, and that he should be and has nice plates; and this is Robinson Crusoe, very glad to have the doll, upon which Violante which Parson Dale once said he would give me hastened to give them both away, and was never so id rather buy it out of my own money. happy as when matnma (as she called Mrs. Ricca- Well, please yourself, quoth the tinker; bocca) was admiring the picture-book, and Rices- you shall have the books for four bob, and you bocca with austere gravity dandled the doll. Then can pay rae next month. Riccabocca a~ ured her that she could be of great Four bobsfour shillings~ it is a great sum, use to him in the garden; and Violante instantly said Lenny, but I will lay by, as you are kind put into movement her spade, hoe, and wheeb enough to trust me; good evening, Mr. Sprott. barrow. Stay a bit, said the tinker; ~I 11 just throw This last occupation brought her into immediate you these two little tracks into the bargu~g; they contact with Mr. Leonard Fairfield; and that per- be only a shilling a dozen, so t is but tuppence sonage one morning, to his great horror, found and yen you has read those, vy, you 11 be a reglar Miss Violante had nearly exterminated a whole customer. celery-bed, which she bad ignorantly conceived to The tinker tossed to Lenny Nos. 1 and 2 of Ap- be a crop of weeds. peals to Operatives, and the peasant took them up Lenny was extremely angry. He snatched gratefully, away the hoe, and said angrily, You must not do The young knowledge-seeker went his way that, Miss. Ill tell your papa if you across the green fields, and under the still autumn Violante drew herself up, and never having been foliage of the hedgerows. lie looked first at one so spoken to before, at least since her arrival in book, then at another; he did not know on which En~land, there was something comic in the sur- to settle. prise of her large eyes, as well as something tragic The tinker rose and made a fire with leaves and in the dignity of her offended mien. It is very furse and sticks, some dry and some green. naughty of you, Miss, continued Leonard in a Lenny has now opened No. 1 of the tracts: they milder tone, for he was both softened by the eyes are the shortest to read, and don~t require so much and awed by the mien, and I trust you will not cffihrt of the mind as the explanation of the steam- do it again. engine. Non capisco, (I dont understand,) murmurcd The tinker has now set on his grimy glue-pot, Violante, and the dark eyes filled with tears. At and the glue simmers. that moment up came Jackeymo; and Violante, CHAPTER Vt. painting to Leonard, said, with an effort not to. be- tray her emotion, Ii frmnci ella e molto grossolano, As Violante became more familiar with her new (he is a very rude boy.) home, and those around her became more familiar Jackeymo turned to Leonard with the look of an with Violante, she was remarked for a certain enraged tiger. how you dare, scum of de earth stateliness of manner and bearing, which, had it that you are, cried he,* how you dare make cry been less evidently natural and inborn, would have the signorinaB And his English not supplying seemed misplaced in the daughter of a forlorn familiar vituperatives sufficiently, he poured out exile, and would have been rare at so early an age upon Lenny such a profusion of Italian abuse, that among children of the loftiest pretensions. It was the boy turned red and white in a breath with rage with the air of a little princess that she presented and perplexity. her tiny hand to a friendly pressure, or submitted Violante took instant compassion upon the victim her calm clear cheek to a presuming kiss. Yet she had made, and, with true feminine caprice, now withal she was so graceful, and her very stateli- began to scold Jackeymo for his anger, and, finally ness was so pretty and captivating, that she was approaching Leonard, laid her hand on his arm, and not the less loved for all her grand airs. And, said with a kindness at once childlike and queenly, indeed, she deserved to be loved; for though she and in the prettiest imaginable mixture of imperfect was certainly prouder than Mr. Dale could approve English and soft Italian, to which I cannot pretend of, her pride was devoid of egotism; and that is a to do justice, and shall therefore translate: Dont pride by no means common. She had an intuitive mind him. I dare say it was all my fault, only I forethought for others; you could see that she was did not understand you: are not these things capable of that grand woman-heroism, abnegation weeds B of self; and though she was an original child, and No, my darling signorina, said Jackeymo in often grave and musing, with a tinge of melancholy, Italian, looking ruefully at the celery-bed, they sweet, but deep in her character, still she was nor are not weeds, and they sell very well at this time above the happy, genial merriment of childhood of the year. But still, if it arnusOs you to pluck only her silver laugh was more attuned, and her them up, I should like to see who s to prevent it. gestures more composed, than those of children Lenny walked away. He had been called the habitnated to many playfellows usually are. Mrs. scum of the earth, by a foreigner too! He had Hazeldean liked her best when she was grave, and a~ain been ill-treated for doing what he conceived said she would become a very sensible woman. his duty. He was again feeling the distinction be- Mrs. Dale liked her best when she was gay, and tween rich and poor, and he now fancied that that said she was born to make many a heart ache ; for which Mrs. Dale was properly reproved by the * It need scarcely be observed, that Jackeymo, in his parson. Mrs. Hazeldean gave her a little set of conversations with his master or Violante, or his confer- garden tools; Mrs. Dale a picture-book and a ences with himsetf, employs his native language, which is therefore translated without the blunders that he is beautiful doll. For a long time the book and the driven to commit when competled to trust himself to the doll had the preference. But Mrs. Hazeldean tongue of the country in which he is a sojourner. 70 distinction involved deadly warfare, for he had read from beginning to end those two damnable tracts which the tinker had presented to him. But in the midst of all the angry disturbance of his mind, he felt the soft touch of the infants hand, the soothing influence of her conciliating words, and he was half ashamed that he had spoken so roughly to a child. Still, not trusting himself to speak, he walked away and sat down at a distance. I do& t see, thought he, why there should be rich and poor, master and servant. Lenny, be it remembered, Ilad not heard the parsons Political ~5ermon. An hour after, having composed himself, Lenny returned to his work. Jackeymo was no longer in the garden ; he had gone to the fields; but Ricca- bocca was standing by the celery-bed, and holding the red silk umbrella over Violante as she sat on the ground looking up at her father with those eyes already so full of intelligence, and love, and soul. Lenny, said Riccabocca, my young lady has been telling me that she has been very naughty, and Giacomo very unjust to you. For- give them both. Lennys sullenness melted in an instant: the reminiscence of tracts Nos. 1 and 2 Like the baseless fabric of a vision, Left not a wreck behind. He raised eyes, swimming with all his native good- etess, towards the wise man, and dropped them gratefully on the face of the infant peace-maker. Then he turned away his head arid fairly wept. The parson was right: 0 ye poor, have charity for the rich; 0 ye rich, respect the poor. CHAPTER VIt. Now from that day the hutnble Lenny and the regal Violante became great friends. With what pride he taught her to distin0 uisls between celery and weedsand how proud too was she when she learned that she was useful! There is not a greater pleasure you can give to children, especially fe- male children, than to make them feel they are already of value in the world, and serviceable as Well as protected. Weeks and months rolled away, and Lenny still read, not only the hooks lent him by the doctor, but those he bought of Mr. Sprott. As for the bombs and shells against relig- ion, which the tinker carried in his bag, Lenny was not induced to blow himself up ~vith them. 1-Je had been reared from his cradle in simple love and reverence for the Divine Father, and the tender Saviour, whose life beyond all records of human goodness, whose death beyond all epics of mortal heroism, no being whose infancy has been taught to~ supplicate the merciful, and adore the holy, yea, even though his later life may be entangled amidst the thorns of some desolate pyrrhontsm, can ever hear reviled and scoffed without a shock to the con- science and the revolt of the heart. As the deer recoils by instinct from the tiger, as the very look of the scorpion deters you from handling it, though you never saw a scorpion before, so the very first line in some ribald profanity on which the tinker put his black finger, made Lennys blood run cold. Safe, too, was the peasant boy from any temptation in ~vorks of a gross and licentious nature, not only because of the happy ignorance of his rural life, but because of a more enduring safe-guardgenius! Genius, that, manly, robust, healthful as it be, is long before it lose its instinctive iDorian modesty; shamefaced, because so susceptible to glorygen MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE. ius, that loves indeed to dream, but on the violet banlc, not the dun~,-hill. Wherefore, even in the error of the senses, it seeks to escape from the sen- sual into worlds of fancy, subtle and refined. But apart from the passions, true genius is the most practical of all human gifts. Like the Apollo, whom the Greek worshipped as its type, even Arcady is its exile, not its home. Soon weary of the dalliance of Temp6, it ascends to its mission the Archer of the silver how, the guide of the car. of light. Speaking more plainly, genius is the etithusiasm far self-improvement; it ceases or sleeps the moment it desists from seeking some ob- ject which it believes of value, and by that object it insensibly connects its self-improvement with the positive advance of the world. At present Lennys genius had no bias that was not to the positive and - useful. It took the direction natural to his sphere, and the wants thereinviz., to the arts which we call mechanical. He wanted to Icuow about steam- engines and Artesian wells; and to Icuow about them it was necessary to lcnow something of me- clianics and hydrostatics; so he bought popular elementary works on those mystic sciences, and set all the powers of his mind at work on experiments. Noble and generous spirits are ye, who, with small care far fame, and little reward from pelf, have opened to the intellects of the poor the portals of wisdom! I honor and revere ye; only do not think ye have done all that is needful. Consider, I pray ye, whether so good a citoice from the tinkers bag would have been made by a boy whom relig- ion had not scared from the pestilent, and genius had not led to the self improving. And Lenny did not wholly escape front tlte mepltitic portions of the~ motley elements front which his awakening mind drew its nurture. Think not it was all pure oxygen that the panting lip drew in. No; there were still those inflammatory tracts. Political I do not like to call them, far politics mean the art of government, and the tracts I speak of assailed all government which maulcind has hitherto recog- nized. Sad rubbish, perhaps, were such tracts to you, 0 sound thiulcer, tn your easy-chair! Or to you, practised statesman, at your post on the Treasury Benchto you, calm dignitary of a learned Churchor to you, my lord judge, who may often have sent from your bar to the dire Orcus of Norfolks Isle the ghosts of men whom that rub- bish, falling simultaneously on the bumps of ac- quisitiveness and conthativeness, bath ultimately slain. Sad rubbish to you! But seems it such rubbish to the poor mart, to whom it promises a paradise on the easy terms of upsetting a world l I~or ye see, these Appeals to Operatives repre- sent that same world-u psettimng as the simplest thing imaginablea sort of two-amid-two-make-four prop- ositron. The poor have only got to set their strong hands to the axle, and hieave-a-htoy! and hiurralt for the topsy-turvey! Ihen, just to put a little wholesome rage into the heave-a-hoy! it is so facile to accompany the eloquence of Appeals with a kind of stir-the-bile-up statistics Abuses of tine Aristocracy Jobs of the Priesthood Expenses of Army kept up for Peers younger sons Wars contracted far the villanous pur- pose of raising the rents of the landownersall arithmetically dished up, and seasoned with tales (tf every gentleman wlto has counmitted a misdeed, every clergynnan who has dishonored his cloth ; as if such instances were fair specimens of average gentlemen and ministers of religion! All this, passionately advanced, (and observe, never ama- MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETlES IN ENGLISH LIFE. swered, for that literature admits no controversial- ists, and the writer has it all his own way,) may be rubbish; hut it is out of such rubbish that operatives build barricades for attack, and legisla- tors prisons for defence. Our poor friend Lenny drew plenty of this stuff from the tinkers bag. He thought it very clever and very eloquent ; and he supposed the satistics were as true as mathematical demonstrations. A fairious knowledge-diffuser is looking over my shoulder, and teljs me, Increase education, and cheapen good books, and all this rubbish will dis- appear! Sir, I dont believe a word of it. If you printed Ricardo and Adam Smith at a farthing a volume, I still believe that they would be as little read by the operatives as they are now-a-days by a very large proportion of highly cultivated men. I still believe that, while the press works, attacks on the rich, and propositions for heave-a-boys, ~vill always form a popular portion of the Literature of Labor. Ihere s Lenny Fairfield reading a treatise on hydraulics, and constructing a model for a foun- tain into the bargain ; but that does not prevent his acquiescence in any proposition for getting rid of a national debt, which he certainly never agreed to pay, and which he is told makes sugar and tea so shamefully dear. No. I tell you what does a little counteract those eloquent incentives to break his own head against the strong walls of the social systemit is, that he has two eyes in that head, which are not always employed in reading. And, having been told ir print that masters are tyraiits, parsons hypocrites or drones in the hive, and land- owners vampires and bloodsuckers, he looks out into the little world around him, and, first, lie is com- pelled to acknowledge that his master is not a tyrant, (perhaps because he is a foreigner and a philos- opher, and, for what I and Lenny know, a repub- lican.) But then Parson Dale, though High Church to the marrow, is neither hypocrite nor drone. He has a very good living, it is true much better than he ought to have, according to the political opinions of those tracts; but Lenny is obli~ed to confess that, if Parson Dale were a penny the poorer, he would do a pennywornhs less good ; and comparing one parish with another, such as Roodhall and Hazeldean, he is dimly aware that there is no greater civilizer than a parson tolerably well off. Then, too, Squire Ilazeldean, though as arrant a tory as ever stood upon shoe- leather, is certainly not a vampire nor bloodsucker. He does not feed on the public; a great many of the public feed upon him: and, therefore, his prac- tical experience a little staggers and perplexes Lenny Fairfield as to the gospel accuracy of his theoretical dogmas. Masters, parsons, and land- owners! having, at the risk of all popularity, just given a coup depalte to certain sages extremely the fashion at l)resent, I am not going to let you off without an admonitory dea in the ear. Dont sup- pose that any mere scribbling and typework will suffice to answer the scribbling and typework set at work to demolish youwrite down that rubbish you cantlive it down you may. Ifyon are rich, like Squire Ilazeldean, do good with your money; if you are poor, like Signior Riccabocca, do good with your kindness. See! there is Lenny now receiving his weeks wages; and though Lenny knows that lie can get higher wages in the very next parish, his blue eyes are sparkling with gratitude, not at the chink of the money, but at the poor exiles friendly talk on things apart from all service; while Violante i~ 71 descending the steps from the terrace, charged by her mother-in-law with a little basket of sago, and suchlike delicacies, for Mrs. Fairfield, who has been ailing the last few days. Lenny will see the tinker as he goes home, and he will buy a most Demosthenean Appeala tract (if tracts, upon the Propriety of Strikes, and the Avarice of Masters. But, somehow or other, I think a few words from Signior Riccabocca, that did not cost the signior a farthing, and the sight of his mothers smile at the contents of the basket, which cost very little, will serve to neutralize the effects of that Appeal, much more efficaciously than the best article a Brougham or a Mill could write on the subject. CHAPTER Till. SPRING had come again; and one beautiful May~ day, Leonard Fairfield sat beside the little foun- tam which he had now actually constructed in the garden. The butterflies were hovering over the belt of flowers which he had placed around his fountain, and the birds were singing overhead. Leonard Fairfield was resting from his day~s work, to enjoy his abstemious dinner, beside the cool play of the sparkling waters, and, with the yet keener appetite of kno~vledge, he devoured his book as he munched his crusts. A penny tract is the shoeing-horn of literature: it draws on a great many books, and some too tight to be very useful in walking. The penny tract quotes a celebrated writer, you long to read him; it props a startling assertion by a grave authority, you long to refer to it. During the nights of the past winter Leonards intelligence had made vast progress; lie had taught himself more than the elements of mechanics, and put to practice the prin- ciples he had acquired, not only in the hydraulical achievement of the fiuntain, nor in the still more notable application of science, commenced on the stream in which Jackeymo had fished for minnows, and which Lenny had diverted to the purpose of irrigating two fields, but in various ingenious con- trivances for the facilitation or abridgment of labor. which had excited great wonder and praise in the neighborhood. On the other hand, those rabid lit- tle tracts, which dealt so summarily with the des- tinies of the human race, even when his growing reason, and the perusal of works more classical or more logical, had led hini to perceive that they were illiterate, and to suspect that they jumped from premises to conclusions with a celerity very different from the careful ratiocination of mechanical science, had still, in the citations and references wherewith they abounded, lured hum on to philosophers more specious and more perilous. Out of the tinkers ba~ he had drawn a translation of Condorcets Progress of Alan, and another of Rousseaus Social Contract. These had induced him to select from the tracts in the tinker~s miscellany those which abounded most in professions of philanthropy, and predictions of some coming Golden Age, to which old Saturns was a joketracts so mild and mother- like in their language, that it required a much more practical experience than Lennys to perceive that you would have to pass a river of blood before you had the slightest chance of setting foot on the flow- ery banks on which they invited you to repose tracts which rouged poor Christianity on the cheeks, clapped a crown of innocent daffodihhies on her head, and set her to dancing a pas de zephyr in the pastoral ballet in which St. Simon pipes to the flock he 72 shears; or having first laid it down as a preliminary axiom, that The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, substituted in place thereof Monsieur Fouriers symmetrical phalanstere, or Mr. Owens architec- tural parallelogram. It ~vas with some such tract that Lenny was seasoning his crusts and his radishes, when Riccabocca, bending his long, dark face over the sttidents shoulder, said abruptly Diovolo, my friend! What on earth have you got there Just let me look at it, will you l Leonard rose respectfully, and colored deeply as he surrendered the tract to Riccabocca. The wise man read the first page attentively, the second more cursorily, and only ran his eye over the rest. He bad gone through too vast a range of problems political, not to have passed over that venerable Pons Asinorum of Socialism, on which Fouriers and St. Simons sit straddling and cry aloud that they have arrived at the last houndary of knowledge! All this is as old as the hills, quoth Riccabocca irreverently; hut the hills stand still, and this there it goes ! and the sage pointed to a cloud emitted from his pipe. Did you ever read Sir David Brewster on Optical Delusions No! Well, Ill lend it to you. You will find therein a story of a lady who always saw a black cat on her hearth- rug. The black cat existed only in her fancy, hut the hallucination was natural and reasonableeli what do you thiukP Why, sir, said Leonard, not catching the Italians meaning, I dont exactly see that it was nattiral and reasonable. Foolish boy, yes! because black cats are things possible and known. But who ever saw upon earth a community of men such as sit on the hearth-ruos of Messrs. Owen and Fourier~ If the ladys hal- lucination was not reasonable, what is his, who believes in such visions as theseP Leonard bit his lip. My dear boy, cried Riccabocca kindly, the only thing sure and tangible to which these writers would lead you, lies at the first step, and that is ~vhat is commonly called a Revolution. Now, I know what that is. I have gone, not indeed through a revolution, hut an attempt at one. Leonard raised his eyes towards his master with a look of profound respect, and great curiosity. Yes, added Riccabocca, and the face on which the boy gazed exchanged its usual grotesqtte and sardonic expression for one animated, noble, and heroic. Yes, not a revolution for chimeras, bitt for that cause ~vhich the coldest allow to be good, and which, when successful, all time approves as divinethe redemption of our native soil from the rule of the foreigner! I have shared in such an attempt. And, continued the Italian mournfully, recalhin~ now all the evil passions it arouses, all the ties it dissolves, all the blood that it commands to flow, all the healthful industry it arrests, all the madmen that it arms, all the victims that it dupes, I question whether one man really hormest, pure, and humane, who has once gone through such an ordeal, would ever hazard it again, unless he was assured that the victory was certainay, and the object for which he fights not to be wrested from his hands amidst the uproar of the elements that the battle has released. The Italian paused, shaded his brow with his MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETiES IN ENGLISH LIFE. hand, and remained long silent. Then, gradually resumtng his ordinary tone, he continued Revolutions that have n,o definite objects made clear by the positive experience of history; revolo.. tions, in a word, that aim less at substituting one law or one dynasty for another,, than at changing the whole scheme of society, have been little at- tempted by real statesmen. Even Lycurgus is proved to be a myth who never existed. They are the suggestions of philosophers who lived apart from time actual world, and whose opinions (though generally they were very benevolent, good sort of men, and wrote in an elegant poetical style) one would no more take on a plain matter of life, than one would look upon Virgils Eclo~, ues as a faith- ful picture of the ordinary pairms amid pleasures of the peasants who tend our sheep. Read them as you would read poets, and they are delightful. But attempt to shape the world according to time poetry and fit yourself for a madhouse. The further off the age is from the realization of such pruijects, the inure these poor philosophers have indulged them. Thus, it was amidst the saddest corruption of court manners that it became the fashion in Paris to sit for ones picture, with a crook in ones h~ nd, as Alexis or Daphne. Just as liberty was fast dying out of Greece, and the successors of Alexander were founding their monarchies, and Rome was growing up to crush in its iromi grasp all states save its own, Plato withdraws his eyes from the world, to open them in his dreamy Atlantis. Just in the grimmest period of English history, with the axe hanging over his head, Sir Thomas More gives yon his Utopia. J05t wheti the world is to he tIme theatre of a imew Sesostris, time dreamers of France tell you that the age is too enlightened fir war, that man is henceforth to be governed by pure reason, and live in a paradise. Very pretty reading all this to a man like me, Lenny, who can admire arid smile at it. But to you, to the man ~vho has to work for his living, to the man who thinks it would be so much more pleasant to live at his ease in a phalan- stere than to work eight or ten hours a day; to the man of talent and action amid industry, whose future is invested in thuat tranquillity and order of a state, in which talent and action anti industry are a certain capital ;why, Messrs. Coutts, the great bankers, had better encourage a theory to upset the system of banking! Whatever disturbs society, yea, even by a causeless panic, much more by an acttial struggle, falls first upon the market of labor, and thence affects prejudicially every department of in- telligence. In such times the arts are arrested; literature is neglected ; people are too busy to read anything save appeals to their passions. And capital, shaken in its sense of security, no lotuger ventures boldly thromugh the land, calling forth all the energies of toil and enterprise, and extending to every workman his reward. Now, Lenny, take this piece of advice. You are young, clever, and aspiring: men rarely succeed in changing the world; but a man seldom fails of success if he lets the world alone, and resolves to make the best of it. You are in the midst of the great crisis of your life ; it is the struggle between the new desires knowledge excites, and that sense of poverty, which those desires convert either into hope and emulation, or into envy and despair. I grant thu at it is an up- hill work that lies before you; but dont you think it is always easier to climb a mountain than it is to level it I These hooks call on you to level the mountain; and that mountain is the property of other people, subdivided amongst a great many pro. MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE. 73 pr~etors, and protected by law. At the first stroke woman, the romance was carried off by so many of the pick-axe, it is ten to one hut what you are genuine revelations of sincere, deep, pathetic feel- taken up for a trespass. But the path up the moon- lug, that it was always natural, though true to a tam is a right of way uncontested. You may he nature from which you would not augur happi- safe at the summit, before (even if the owners are ness. fbols enough to let you) you could have levelled a Leonard was still absorbed in the perusal of yard. Cospetto!~ quoth the doctor, it is more these poems, when Mrs. Fairfield entered the room. than two thousand years ago since poor Plato began What have you been about, Lennysearching to level it, and the mountain is as high as ever! in my box l Thus saying. Riccabocca came to the end of his I came to look for my fathers bag of tools, pipe, and, stalking thoughtfully away, he left mother, and I found these papers, which you said Leonard Fairfield trying to extract light from the I might read 501110 day. smoke. I doesnt wonder you did not hear me when I cHAPTER iX. came in, said the widow sighing. I used to sit still f(ir the hour together, when my poor Mark SHORTLY atter this discourse of Riccaboccas, an re.ad his poems to me. There was such a pretty incident occurred to Leonard that served to carry one about the Peasants Fireside, Lennyhave his mind into new directions. One evening, when you got hold of that ? his mother was out, he was at work on a uew Yes, dear mother; and I remarked the allusion mechanical contrivance, arid had the misfortune to to you; it brought tears to my eyes. But these break one of the instruments which he employed, verses are not my fatherswhose are they They Now it will be remembered that his father had seem a womans hamid. been the squires head-carpenter; the widow had Mrs. Fairfield lookedchanged colorgrew carefully hoarded the tools of his craft, which had faintand seated herself. belonged to her poor Mark; and though she occa- Poor, poor Nora ! said she falteringly. I sionally lent them to Leonard, she would not give did not know as they were there; Mark kep em; them up to his service. Amongst these, Leonard they got among his~ knew that he should find the one that he wanted; Leonard. Who was Nora i and being much interested in his contrivance, he Mrs. Fairfield. Who ?childwho? Nora could not wait till his mothers return. The tools, waswas my ovnown sister. with other little relics of the lost, were kept in a Leonard (1mm great amaze, contrasting his ideal large trunk in Mrs. Fairfields sleeping room the of the writer of these musical lines, in that grace- trunk was not locked, and Leonard went to it with- ful hand, with his homely uneducated mother, who out ceremony or scruple. In rummaging for the can neither read nor write.) Your sisteris it instrument, his eye fell upon a bundle of MSS.; possible? My aunt, then. How comes it you arid he suddenly recollected that when he was a never spoke (if her bef(ire? Oh ! you should be so mere child, and before he much knew the difference proud of her, mother. between verse and prose, his mother had pointed Mrs. Fairfield (clasping her hands.)\Ve were to these MSS. and~said, One day or other, when proud of her, all of misfather, motherall! She you can read nicely, I II let you look at these, was so beautiful arid so good, arid not promid she Lenny. My poor Mark wrote such versesaim, he though she looked like the first lady in die land, was a scollard ! Leonard, reasonably enough, Oh! Nora, Nora ! thought that the time had now arrived when lie was Leonard (after a pause.) But she must have worthy time privilege of reading the paternal effu- been highly educated? sious, and he took tbrth the MSS. with a keen but Mrs. Fairfield. Deed she was melancholy inter~st. He recognized his fathers Leonard. How was that? hdudwriting, which he had often seen before in Mrs. Fairfield (rocking herself to and fro in her account-books and niemorauda, and read eagerly chair.) Oh! my lady was her ~odmnotherLady some trifling poems, which did not show much Lausmere I maeanand took a fancy to her when genitis, nor irimich mastery (if language and rhythm she was that high! and had her to stay at the Park, such poems, in short, as a self~educated man, arid wait on her ladyship ; and then she put her to with poetic taste and feeling, rather than poetic school, and Nora was so clever that nothing would inspiration or artistic culture, might compose ~vith do but she must go to London as a governess. But credit, but not for fame. But suddenly, as he dont talk of it, boy !dout talk (if it ! turned over these Occasional Pieces, Leonard Leonard. Why not, mother?what has be- came to others in a different handwritinga come of her?where is she? woman s haudwritingsniall, and fine, arid ex- A1~s. Fairfield (bursting into a paroxysni of quisitely formed. He had scarcely read six lines tears.) In her gravein her cold grave! Dead, of these last, before his attention was irresistibly dead ! chmaiued. They were of a different order of merit Leonard was inexpressibly grieved and shocked. from poor Marks; they bore the unmistakable It is the attribute of the hmoet tti seem always living, stamp of genius. Like the poetry of women in always a friend. Leonard felt as if some one very general, they were devoted to personal feeling dear had been suddenly torn from his heart. He they were not the mirror of a world, but reflections tried to console his mother; but hier emotion was ulasohitaryheart. Yetthisisthekindofpoetrymost contagious, and he wept with her. pleasing to tIme youmig. Amid the verses in question And how long has she been dead ? he asked had amiother attraction for Leonard ; they seemed to at last, in rmiournful accents. express some struggle akin to his ownsome com- Many s the long year, many; but, added plaint against the actual condition of the writers Mrs. Fairfield, rising, and putting her tremulous life, some sweet melodious murmurs at fortune. hand on Leonards shoulder, you 11 just never For the rest, they were characterized by a vein of talk to me about herI can t bear itit breaks my sentiment so elevated that, if written by a man, it heart. I can bear better to talk of Markcome womild have run into exaggeration ; written by. a down stairscome. 74 May I not keep these verses, mother Do let me. Well, well, those hits o paper be all she left hehind heryes, keep them, but put hack Marks. Are they all here ?sure l And the widow, though she could not read her hushands verses, looked jealously at the MSS. written in his irregu- lar large scrawl, and, smoothing them carefully, replaced them in the trunk, and resettled over them some sprigs of lavender, which Leonard had unwit- tingly disturhed. But, said Leonard, as his eye again rested on the heautifol handwriting of his lost aunt but you call her NoraI see she signs herself L. Leonora was her name. I said she was my ladys god-child. We called her Nora for short Leonoraand I am Leonardis that how I came hy the name l Yes, yesdo hold your tongue, hoy, sohhed poor Mrs. Fairfield; and she could not be soothed nor coaxed into continuing or renewing a suhject which was evidently associated with insupportable pain. CHAPTER X. IT is difficult to exaggerate the effect that this discovery produced on Leonards train of thought. Some one belonging to his own humble race had, then, preceded him in his struggling flight towards the loftier regions of intelligence and desire. It was like the mariner amidst unknown seas, who finds carved upon some desert isle a familiar house- hold name. And this creature of genius and of sorrowwhose existence he had only learned by her song, and whose death created, in the simple heart of her sister, so passionate a grief, after the lapse of so many yearssupplied to the romance awaking in his young heart the ideal which it un- consciously sought. He was pleased to hear that she had been beautiful and good. He paused from his books to muse on her, and picture her image to his fancy. That there was some mystery in her fate was evident to him ; and while that conviction deepened his interest, the mystery itself, by degrees, took a charm which he was not anxious to dispel. lie resigned himself to Mrs. Fairfields obstinate silence. He was contented to rank the dead amongst those holy and ineffable images which ~ve do not seek to unveil. Youth and fancy have many secret hoards of ideas which they do not desire to impart, even to those most in their confidence. I doubt the depth of feeling in any man who has not certain recesses in his soul into which none may enter. Hitherto, as I have said, the talents of Leonard Fairfield had been more turned to things positive than to the ideal ; to science and investigation of fact than to poetry, and that airier truth in which poetry has its element. He had read our greater poets, indeed, but without thoughts of imitating; and rather from the general curiosity to inspect all celebrated monuments of the human mind, than from that especial predilection for verse which is too common in childhood and youth to be any sure sign of a poet. But now these melodies, unknown to all the woyld beside, rang in his ear, mingled with his thoughtsset, as it were, his whole