THE UNITED STATES MAGAZINE, AND DEMOCRATIC REVIEW. Vol. XXIII. JULY, 1848. No. CXXI. PRINCIPLES NOT ~IEN. THE destinies of the country at this moment hang trembling in a fearful balance, and a brief and earnest word, addressed to the great body of the people, will not be inopportune at a juncture so important, not only to our institutions, but to the cause of humanity and civil liberty at large. Iden- tified with no partial division of our collective and universal Democracy, whether from the influence of sectional or other interestsremoved, equally from participation, and from disposition to participate, in any of the inter- nal quarrels by which the harmony of our counsels has been of late so un- happily distractedand animated solely by an engrossing zeal in the main- tenance of the benign principles and wise policy of our partywe may certainly, if any one, be allowed to claim a position entitling us to the candid and friendly attention of all of its temporarily disordered sections. From all quarters of the United States, inquiries have constantly reached us, touching the unhappy dissension which has broken out in our ranks. We have deliberately forborne replying to the latest moment, in the earnest hope that personal bickerings and local interests, when brought by their noisy clamor before the eyes of the whole country, would shrink back from scrutiny, and digest in silence and retirement their spleen and dis- content. But to our regret time has not brought reflection with it, and the family quarrel which for some months past has occasionally betrayed angry symptoms of its pent-up fury, has at last broken out into open and resolute re- bellion. In such an emergency, notions of prudence, ofdelicacy, or of sorrow, should no longer restrain us; and we think it due to our position as the sole national expositor of the great principles of the Democratic partyto our character for a disinterested and consistent support of those principles, and lastly, to the numberless and anxious inquiries which we have alluded to abovewe think it due, we repeat, to enter upon a calm investigation of this domestic dispute, and to give our impartial judgment upon it. The chief point to be ascertained is simply this, the motives of the parties who have become such conspicuous actors in the matter; who have taken upon themselves the serious responsibility of a schism, which, if it fail, involve them necessarily in political ruin and personal discredit, arid which, should it succeedGod forbid~!~w ould plunge our~great and happy country into the 4 Principles not Mien. [July, fiery furnace of a desolating feud, whose entire consequences it is impossi- ble to foresee, and the patriotic mind forbears to regard. What are the motives, then, of the leaders of the seceding fragment of the iJemocratic party, known under the slang term of Barnburners ? What is the mean- ing of all this fuss and pother which frights the state from her propriety? Is it an honest protestation founded on principle, or is it an artful manoeuvre suggested by personal interest; is it a bold and virtuous resistance to party tyranny, or is it an insidious and unprincipled pursuit of selfish projects is it an enlightened stand for principle, or is it a slavish devotion to men? These are grave questions, and we should deem ourselves altogether unwor- thy to approach them, if we could allow ourselves to be guided for a moment by an unfair spirit of personal or party animosity in their consideration. We disdain with indignation so ungenerous a suspicion; but let our words and tone be the test of our truth. Martin Van Buren is a well-known name, such as we have delighted in the past to honor. We can scarce believe our eyes when we behold it inscribed on the banner of revolt, and flaunted about as a watchword of rebellion. We are inclined to doubt our senses, and believe rather that we are the victim of some frightful hallucinationthe prey of a disordered fancy. Is it a goblin damned that haunts us, or, alas can it be true, that the war-worn veterans of the Democratic ranks have at last turned tound, deserted their faith, and abandoned their allegiance? We are instinctively disposed from habit to speak with due respect of so distinguished a man, and would that, under the painful circumstances of the case, we could avoid speaking of him at all. But on him, not us, be the blame of our language; the fault is his, if any other than habitual sentiments of respect escape our lips. In illus- tration of the present schism, we may inquire what has been the course of Mr. Van Buren in relation to the matter he now sets forth as a principle? Of all the public men who have risen to high honors, Mr. Van Buren has been indebted the least to merit and the most to party management. In 1812, Mr. Madison was presented by the Democracy of the Union as the antagonist of Great Britain and the supporter of the war. He was opposed by Mr. Van Buren, who went with the Federalism of New-England for another candidate. Mr. Van Buren went with a New-York faction, as he does now. The result showed how abortive his efforts were, for Mr. Madi- son was sustained without the vote of New-York. The scheme of state politics devised by him in 1S~21, through which he con- trolled New-York, and holding in his hands the electoral votes of this state, dictated to the Union, is still a subject of admiration and theme of praise to those followers who look upon party trickery as statesmanship, and who regard skill in legerdemain as praiseworthy as great learning in the scien- ces. Party centralization at Albany, controlling offices as well as safety-fund bank charters, presidents, cashiers and directors, in all the counties, formed machinery which set every mans face towards Albany like a political Mecca, and working this machinery gave Mr. Van Buren his title to na- tional honors. When before the people of the Union in a national capa- city, no man was more solicitous to preserve the integrity of the Democratic party, or more subservient to slavery, in order to propitiate to the Motes of the south, than was Mr. Van Buren. The interests of the regency, with its large influence in the national party, was to preserve harmony, and all dis- cussion that in any way jeopardised that harmony was instantly frowned down. In 1826, during the contest between Spain and her provinces, Mexico and Colombia meditated the invasion of Cuba, with the view of emancipating the slaves of that island. This naturally alarmed the south, and Mr. Van Buren put himself forward as their champion. He addressed 1843.j Princzples not Men. 5 the United States Minister at the Spanish Court, urging him to counsel peace with the southern republics of America, lest they should aid in free- ing Cuba from slavery. Considerations, said Mr. Van Buren, connected with a certain class of our population, made it the interest of the southern section of the Union that no attempt should be made in that island (Cuba) to throw off the yoke of Spanish dependencethe first efforts of which would be the emancipation of a numerous slave population, which result could not but be very sensibly felt upon the adjacent shores of the United otates. Again Mr. Van Buren, in writing to A. Butler, the agent of the United States in Mexico, cautioned him to oppose the banefid spirit of emancipation, designed to be introduced and propagated in the island of Cuba. He thus took ground as the friend of slavery, not only here where the Constitution permits it, but elsewhere, for fear of the indirect influences of foreign emancipation upon the south, the votes of ~vhich he was then court- ing. Anxious to be identified as the northern man with southern principles, when, in 18356 he was spoken of as a candidate for the presidency, the whole country being then agitated with the~ question of the right of peti- tion for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, Mr. Van Bu- ren opposed the rig/it of petition, although he admitted the right of Congress to abolish slavery in that District if it chose. The same evil spirit which demanded abolition of slavery in the District, was attempting to ex- cite insurrection in the south by the circulation of incendiary papers. To suppress this evil a bill was, just prior to the election of 1836, introduced into the Senate, while Mr. Van Buren, as Vice-President, was the presi- ding officer, to authorise postmasters to open the mails and take out any matter relating to abolition, which in their opinion should be of an incen- diary character. At the moment of the passage of the bill the Vice-Presi- dent was not in his seat. The vote was a tie, and Mr. Van Buren, on taking his seat, gave the casting vote in favor of the bill to establish a censorship of the press in this enlightened country. And why did he do it? Because southern votes were required to make him President, and the south must be propitiated. The votes of the south were secured, and Mr. Van Buren became President of the United States, and in his inau~ u- ral followed up his southern principles in a manner which drew from Wil- liam Leggett, then publishing the Plaindealer, the following reproof: We wish we could be convinced that it [the inaugural address] is not a cau- tious, timid, time-serving document, composed at the instance of a cringing spirit, willing TO PROPiTIATE THE SLAVEIJOLDERs at the expense OF JUSTICE AND HUMANITY. The general conduct of Mr. Van Buren, including his subserviency to England in his official acts, which was the cause of his non-confirmation as minister to that power, followed by his sacrifice of the citizens of New- York in the Canadian affair, raised a storm of indignation, which resulted, when he caine before the people for re-election in 1840, in leaving him the votes of but seven states, of which five whereslave states. When, in 1844, Mr. Van Buren, regardless of the fact that the north had rejected him in 1840, of the sixty electoral votes he then received, forty-eight being from slave states, camebefore the Democratic convention for re-nomination, he thought proper to give indications of a federalist leaning in opposing the territorial march of the country, thus exciting further distrust. His re- nomination became impossible, and the nominee of that convention re- ceived a larger popular vote than did Mr. Van Buren in 1836, when a united par.ty bore him into power. The friends of Mr. Van Buren 1* 6 Principles not Men. [July, charged that he lost the nomination through fraud. In making that charge they forget that 1,327,3525 freemen voted for what they called a fradulent nominee, when only 763,587 votes were cast for Mr. Van Buren in 1836. If it is fraud for the majority of the people of the United States to elect the man of their choice, then was Mr. Van Buren a victim. The truth would appear to be, however, that the time for reform had arrived; the whole system of New-York corruption had fallen through;. the safety fund system was down forever; the corruptions of the old consti- tution had disgusted the people, and a new organization was necessary. To give stability to a new organization, the government ~vas appealed to, to place in office all those who had enjoyed public emoluments as matter of right un-~ der the regency system. This demand was not complied with. In this po- sition, chagrined at the loss of popular favor, maddened at the failure of po- litical intrigue, and thirsting for revenge against those whom they supposed the cause of their defeat, the conspirators dragged the slavery question for the first time in the history of the country into the arena, and made it a rallying point for a discomfited faction. The hypocritical cry of free soil, no more slave territory, is that on which this northern party has organized its schemes of disunion,. and it pretends to base this upon constitutional right. The evil of slavery has been deplored by all parties, north and south, since the formation of the government; and those states where negroes, either free or in servitude, do not exist, have one and all sought to prevent them settling within their borders. Where hardy pioneers and enterprising settlers have overcome the wilderness, and made prairies smile with the blessings of cul- tivation, they have one and all sought to prevent the blacks from following, to blight with their presence the new homes of the immigrants. As all the old free states have imposed disabilities upon the free blacks, so have the new free states sought to prevent blacks from coming within their borders. The blacks are upon this continent not by their own fault. The cupidity of England in forcing them upon the United States was the cause of their presence here; and it is a matter of equal regret with both free states or slave states. The whites of the former are not dependent upon the blacks for service, and they have shown a determination that the blacks shall not be dependent upon them for bread. In the south the nature of the industry has thus far kept the blacks employed. But the same anxiety to get clear of negroes which prompted the south to resist the imperial government, prompts the north and west to prevent negroes from occupying the lands at all. Hence, even before the formation of the constitution in 1787, an ordinance was passed, prevent- ing the introduction of slaves into territory north of the Ohio. On that ter- ritory now exist the states of Ohio and Indiana, Illinois, Michigan and Wis- ~consin; and as this ordinance adopted by Congress in 1787 sought to pre- vent slavery from being introduced there, so have those states in their con- stitutions, sought to prevent free blacks from settling there. The people of Illinois, by an immense majority, last year adopted the fol- lowing clause of the new constitution: ARTICLE xiv. The general assembly shall, at its first session under the amended constitution, pass such laws as will effectually prohibit free persons of color from immigrating to and settling in this state; and to effectually prevent the owners of slaves from bringing them into this state, for the purpose of setting them free. This desire to exclude blacks from new territory, north and south, has always been strong on the part of the north, which has sought to keep free blacks out of its own states, as well as slaves out of southern states. Since the formation of the government, 17 new states have been admitted mt 7 184w.] Principles not Alien. the Union. These give 60 electoral votes from slave states, and 63 from free States.* The population admitted as slave states increased from 1,136,332 to 4,442,000, and in free states it rose from 1,443,256 to 5,372,- 000. The increase has been the largest from free states. At each new accession of territory, this question, in relation to the admission of slaves into the territory, has been renewed in Congressional debates, but it has never before been stirred up as an electioneering instrument. The excite- ment upon this subject ran highest in LS~20, on the occasion of the admis- s~on of Missouri into the Union. The state of feeling then, together with the consequences that were apprehended to flow from it, are best expressed in the following letter of the immortal Jefferson: Letierfroin Thomas Jefferson to John Holmes, dated April 22nd, 1820. 1 thank you, dear sir, for the copy you have been so kind as to send me of the letter to your constituents on the Missouri question. It is a perfect justification to them. I had for a long time ceased to read newspapers, or pay any attention to public affairs, confident they were in good hands, and content to be a passenger in our bark to the shore from which I am not distant. But the momentous question, like a fire bell in the night, awakened and filled me with terror. I considered it at once as the knell of the Union. It is hushed indeed for the moment, but this is a reprieve only, not the final sentence. A geographical line coinciding with a marked principle, moral and political, once conceived and held up to the angry passions of men, will never be obliterated, and every new irritation will mark it deeper and deeper. I can say with conscious truth, that there is not a man on earth who would sacrifice more than I would, to relieve us from this heavy reproach, in any practicable way. The cession of that kind of property (for it is misnamed) is a bagatelle which would not cost me a sin- gle thought, if in that way a general emancil)atiOn and expatriation could be effected gradually; and with due sacrifices, 1 think it might be. But as it is, we have the wolf by the ears, and we can neither hold him nor safely let him go. Justice in one scale, and self-preservation in the other. Of one thing I am certain, that as the passage of slaves from one State to another would not make a slave of a single human being who uould not be so without it, so their diffusion over a greater surface would make them individually happier, and proportionately facilitate the accomplish- ment of their emancipation, by dividing the burden on a greater number of coadju- tors. An abstinence, too, froni this act of power, would remove the jealousy excited by the undertaking of Congress to regulate the condition of the different descriptions of men composing the state. This certainly is the exclusive right of every state, which nothing in the consti- tution has taken from them and given to the general government. Could Con- gress. for example, say that the non-freenien of Connecticut should be freemen, or that they shall not emigrate into any other state. I regret that I am now to die in the belief that the useless sacrifice of themselves by the generation of 1776 to acquire self-government and happiness to their coun Pop. Rep. Siave. 1847. Eiec. Free. Votes Kentucky,. - .1792.. .220,955a.. - 855,000.. 15 Tennessee,. - 1793... 105,602... .950,000.. 15 Iowa 1812...153,407... .470,000.. 5 Mississippi,.. 1816... 75,448... .600,009.. 4 Alabama 1819... 127,901.. ..600.000.. 7 Missouri, .... 1821... 140,445.... 600,000.. 4 Arkansas,.... 1836... 97,574.... 152,000.. 3 Texas 1845... 140,000.... 140.000.. 4 Florida 1845... 75,000.... 75,000.. 3 1,136,332 44,42,000 60 * NEW STATES ADMITTED INTO THE AMERICAN UNION. First First Pop. Rep Date. Censue. Date. censue. 1847. Elec. Vote. Vermont 1791.. .154,465... .302,000.. 7 Ohio 1802.. .230,760 .. 1,860,000..21 Indiana 1825... 147,178... .960,000.. 9 Illinois, 1818... 55,211... .735,000.. 5 Maine, 1820...298,335.... 600,000.. 10 Michigan 1835.. .212,267... .370,000.. 3 Iowa, 1846... 130,000.. . . 130,000.. 4 Wisconsin, .1848.. .215,000... .215,000.. 4 1,443,256 5,372,000 6~ a The population for 1847, is from the estimate of Edmund Burke, Esq., Commissioner f Patents. 8 Principles not Men. [July, try, is to be thrown away by the unwise and unworthy passio s of their sons, and that my only consolation is to be, that I live not to be. If they would but dis- passionately weigh the blessings they will throw away against an abstract principle more likely to be effected by the union thnn by scission, they would pause before they perpetrated this act of suicide on themselves, and of treason against the hopes of the world. To yourself, as the advocate of the Union, I tender the offering of my high respect and esteem. TH. JEFFERSON. The question was settled at that time by the Missouri compromise, which provided that in the territory of Louisiana, there should, except in the state of Missouri, be no slavery north of the 360 30 of north latitude, running to the ocean. This, of course, left open the territory south of that line to southern institutions. On the admission of Texas, that solemn compromise was sought to be violated, but truth and justice prevailed. The position of Mr. Van Buren has now, as we have seen, induced him to adopt this notion of free soil, as that on which to form a sectional or northern faction, in order to defeat the Democratic party. That we may properly estimate the entire change which the sentiments of that personage have undergone since his rejection by the people of the Union, we compare two letters, one dated March, 1836, and addressed to Aimes and others of North Carolina, in reply to questions as to his views; the other dated June 16th, 1848, and addressed to a meeting of his agents at Utica: iuAadH, 1836. With only a generous confidence on the part of the south, in their brethren of the north, and a firm determination on the part of each to visit, with their sever- est displeasure, any attempt to connect the subject with party politics, those sen- timents cannot be overthrown. All fu- ture attempts on the part of the abolition- ists~ to do so, will then only serve to ac- cumulate and concentrate public odium on themselves. That there are persons at the north who are far from concurring in the prevailing sentiments I have de- scribed. is certainly true; but their num- bers, when compared with the rest of the community, are very inconsiderable; and if the condition of things be not greatly aggravated by imprudence, many of them I have no doubt, will ultimately adopt sounder views of the subject; and the effiwts of those who may persist in the work of agitation may be overcome by reason, or rendered inoperative by con stitutional remedies. * * * In every view of the subject, there- fore, it does appear to me, that, although there certainly is, in the present condi- tion of the country in relation to it, suf- ficient to excite the most serious atten- tion, there is nothing in the state of pub- lic opinion in the United States to justify that panic in the public mind, which in- variably disqualifies those who partake of it,from our dealing wisely or success- fully with the circumstances by which JUNE, 1848. Our ancestors signalized the com- mencement of this glorious government of ours, by rescuing from subjection to sla- very, a territory which is now covered by five great states and peopled by more than four millions of freemen, in the full enjoyment of every blessing which industry and good institutions can confer. They did this when the opinions and conduct of the world in regard to the institution of slavery were very different from what it is now. They did so be- fore ~reat Britain had even commenced those gigantic efforts for the suppression of slavery, by which she has so greatly distinguished herself. After seventy- four years enjoyment of the sacred and invaluable rights of self-government, ob- tained for us by the valor and discretion of our ancestors, we their descendants are called upon to doom, ol. if that is too strong a word, to expose to the inroad of slavery a territory capable of sustaining an equal number of new states to be ad- mitted to our confederacya territory in a great part of which slavery has never existed, in fact, and from the residue of which it has been expressly abolished by the existing government. We are called upon to do this at a period when the minds of nearly all, mankind have been penetrated by a conviction of the evils of slavery, and are united in efforts for its suppressionat a moment, too, when the spirit of freedom and reform is ever 9 1848.] Princip?es not Men. it is produced. From abroad we have, I think, some right to expect less inter- ference than heretofore. We shall, I am. confident, for some time at least, have no more foreign agents to enlighten on the subject, Recent results here, and the discussions with which they have been attended, cannot fail to attract the attention of the reading and reflecting portion of the foreign public. By these means they will be made to understand our real condition in this respect; and they will know that the unchangeable law of that condition is, that the slave question must be left to the control of the slaveholding states themselves, without molestation or interference from any quar- ter; that foreign interference of every description can only be injurious to the slave, without benefit to any interest, and will not he endured by any sectiow of our country; and that any interfer- ence, coming from the non-slaveholding portions of our own territory, is calculated to endanger the perpetuity, and, ~fs me- tioned by the general government, would nevitabt?j occasion the dissolution of our happy Union. where far more prevalent than it has ever been, and when our republic stands proudly forth as the great exemplar of the world in the science of free govern- ment. Who can believe thata population like that which inhabits the non-slaveholding states, probably amounting to twelve millions, who, by their own acts, or by the foresight of others, have been ex- empted from the evils of slavery, can, at such a moment, be induced, by consider- ations of any description, to make a retro- grade movement of a character so ex- traordinary and so painful? Such a movement would, in my view of the matter, and I say it with unfeigned defe- rence to the conflicting opinions of others, bring a reproach upon the influence of free institutions, which would delight the hearts and excite the hopes of the advo- cates of arbitrary power throughout the world. The change is palpable and marked. It is not to be disguised, that lust of power, the long-continuance in office of professed politicians, living upon the peoples money, and claiming public emoluments as a matter of right, have been producLive of fearful evils in our national progress; but r~ever in our history has a more daring and reckless scheme of political intrigue been started, than that which has been set up as the frame-work of a northern party, based upon sectional views, and hostile to the general welfare. The framers of our constitution, and the organizers of the glorious Union under which we have prospered, were well aware of the sectional differences which had been finally compromised in the sacred instrument which they gave to the world. In knowing the evils which must necessarily result from dis- turbing those compromises, and also the proneness of unprincipled seekers after office to lay their worthless hands upon things most sacred to the people as well as to the cause of human liberty, reckless of all consequences, so that a mean and sordid lust for a meretricious notoriety can be tempo- rarily satisfiedthe statesmen of that period were careful on every and all occasions to enjoin vigilance in guarding the constitution, and the most watchful anxiety for the preservation of the sacred instrument. Washing- ton was peculiarly solicitous on this point. He has told us in his farewell address, that, While experience shall not have demonstrated its impracti- cability, there will always be reason to distrust the patriotism of those who, in any quarter, may endeavor to weaken its bonds. The mode most likely to be adopted for this object of weakening bonds, was clearly perceived to be the formation of parties having geographical distinctions. To irri- tate and renew those heart-burnings, and that supposed incompatibility of interests between sections that had manifested themselves in the formation of the union, but which had finally been soothed, were by the actors in those scenes felt to be the most ready means by which unprincipled politi 10 Principles not Men. [July, cians would attempt new political combination with geographical dis- tinctions. On this head the father of his country remarked: Tn contemplating the causes which may disturb our Union. it occurs as matter of serious concern that any ground should have been furnished for characterizing parties by geographical discriminationnorthern and southern, atlantic and western, whence designnsg men may endeavor to excite a betief that there is a real difference of local interests and views. One of the expedients of party to acquire influence within particular districts is, to misrepresent the opinions cnd aims of other districts. * * This (party) spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists under (lifferent shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, controlled, or repressed; but in those of the popular form it is seen in its greatest rankness, and is truly their worst enemy. The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension, which, in different ages and countries has per- petrated the most horrid enormities, is in itself a frightful despotism. The disor- ders and miseries which result, gradually incline the~miiids of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner or later, the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his comp titors, turns this despotism to the purpose of his own elevation on the ruins of the public liberty. The fear expressed by Washington in relation to the operation of party rancour upon the compromises of the Constitution were not realized for more than fifty years. Under the administration of the late venerable Jackson, the deeds of the present faction, for which Mr. Van Buren has deserted the people that supported him and attacked the institutions which gave him wealth and honor, were germinating. The vigilant old hero soon detected the tendency of the treason which was manifesting itself, and did not scruple to denounce it in terms at once just and severe. The fears of Andrew Jackson, as well as of other true patriots, were aroused from the consciousness that the system of political intrigue, 017- ganised in New-York under the constitution of 1825, by which i~he State was bound over to the power of a regency that successfully ruled for twenty years, could not last, and that despotic and unprinci- pled intriguers who, without personal merit or great public services, had contrived, through the skilful application of the spoils of office, to form a scaffold on which to climb to the highest offices, would not scruple when this system fell into decay to jeopardize tIm whole inter- ests of the country, and even to sacrifice the glorious union, by laying hands upon the compromises of the constitution. The demon aboli- tionism introduced here by English emissaries. oiie of whom is now a mem- ber ofParliament,was even then forming materials from which the political traitors could construct their treason. This state of affairs did not fail to escape the sagacity of the great patriot, and in his farewell address, fol- lowing the admonitions of Washington, he remarks: We behold systematic efforts made l)Oblicly to sow the seeds of discord between different parts of the United States, and to place party divisions directly upon geographical distinctions; to e cite thc north against the south, and to force iiito the controversy the most delicate and exciting topics upon which it is impossible that a large portion of the Union can 51)eak without strong emotions. Appeals, too, are constantly made to sectional interests, in order to influence the elevation of the chief magistrate, as if it were desired that he should favor a par- ticular quarter of the country, instead of fulfilling the duties of his station with im- partial justice to all; and the possible dissolution of the Union has at length become an ordinary and familiar subject of discussion Each state has the unquestionable right to regulate its own internal concerns ~ccording to its own pleasure. Every state must be sole judge of the means pro- per to secure the safety of its citizens, and promote their happiness; and all efforts on the part of the people of other states to cast odium upon the institution, and Pdnciples not Men. 11 all means calculated to disturb their rights of property, or to put in jeopardy their peace and internal tranquillity, are in direct opposition to the spirit in which the union was formed, and must endanger its safety. Motives of philanthropy may be assigned for this unwarrantable interference; and weak men may persuade themselves for a moment that they are laboring in the cause of humanity, and as serting the rights of the human race; but every one upon sober reflection will see that nothing but mischief can come from these improper assaults upon the feelings and rights of others. Rest assured that the MEN FOUND BUSY IN THIS woa~ o~ DI5CORD ARE NOT WORTHY or rou~ CONFIDENCE, AND DESERVE YOUR STRONGEST REPROBATION. We are 110W embarked in a campaign of unsual importance, and the democracy will not fail to observe that their choice lies between a manly and loyal support of the representative of the principles summed up in the known creed and charter of the democratic party, and a base and traitorous desertion of them all by espousing the cause of their avowed enemy. In such a juncture, neutrality is equivalent to hostilityhe-who is not with us, is against us; and every vote withheld is a ballot for the opposition. The alternative that presents itself to the people at the coming election, is, on one hand, a candidate more eminently natienal upon all the great ques- tions of the day than perhaps any other man in the Union a northern man, ~vho, so far from opposing the annexation of Texas, has not only re- garded with a clear and just view, but vigorously supported the progress of the people, as well in the direction of Oregon as in that of California and Mexico; whose yonthful service against the common enemy of the United States and Ireland are still the dread of Canadian royalists; whose councils in the cabinet have been an able support in our contest with Mexico, and whose victorious diplomacy humbled the British government in the eyes of the world, while it ensured the freedom of the seas to our commerce and toiling seamen; and who, with a thorough understanding and elaborate acquaintance with the great principles of the Democratic party, has never flinched in their support. On the other hand, we have a soldier, fresh from the most brilliant victories against a foreign enemy, but who has, avowedly, not only no acquaintance whatever with the various subjects of internal policy that have agitated the country for fifty years, but has never sufficiently estimated the advantages of self-government to exercise the privilege of votinga soldier absorbed in ~var, and ripe for deeds ofmilitarydaring,has not busied himself with the duties of a citizen. The discipline of the camp has been more congenial than the equality of citizenship. Federalism has fastened upon the recent brilliant military achievements of this leader to establish in the national government all those fatal practical measures and pernicious principles against which Democracy has contended for more than half a centurynational banks, bankrupt-laws, distribution of public lands, high tariffs, the ruinous financial and comm~rclal pcdicy of England in a word, the general application to all occasions that may artse of that latitudinarian construction of the constitution for which that party has ever been distinguished. In order to defeat the Democratic party, and to con- fer this great power of mischief upon the old federal party, of which he has become the ally, Mr. Van Buren puts himself in nomination against the regular candidate, (for none are so deceived as to doubt the immediate dic- tation of that personage in all the steps that have led to the Utica Conven- tion) to run upon the sole federal principle, if principle it may be called, of opposition to the harmonious extension of territory; wherein he is aided by the co-operation of the emissaries of the English aristocray, who for so many years have sought to divide the Union by promoting dissensions between the north and south. 12 Principles not Men. [July, The issues proposed by the seceding faction are of so self-contradictory and puerile a character as scarcely to merit the consideration of a sensible man. The united democracy of the country has nominated a northern man who represents all the great leading democratic principles. The Whig party have nominated a slaveholder, with the understanding that he is to carry out Whig principles. With a hypocritical cry of free soil, the bolters disorganise the democratic party for the express purpose of placing the slaveholder in power, affording an opportunity of selling out to his inter- est in the house. With ~vhat consistency can these men pretend to demo- cracy and the advocacy of free soil, when they pursue a course calculated to throw the government and its patronage, by the operation of corruption, into the hands, for four years, of federalists, under a slavehoding leader? The triumph of principle can form no part of the calculations of these men, a struggle for spoils is assuredly the extent of their aspirations. The con- sistency of their philanthrophic pretences becomes clearly apparent when we r~fiect that the individuals who now are solicitous as to the internal regulation of states nearly 2,000 miles distant, are identically those who, in New-York, have refused to extend the right of suffrage to free blacks. Under the new constitution of the State of New-York free blacks are not represented at all, and they have a right to vote, only in case they are possessed of, and pay taxes on real estate, of the value of $250. These same blacks who are not represented in the state Assembly are represented in Congress. Thus, in the fifth congressional district, there are 3,444 blacks repiesented in Congress and not represented in the state. A resolution to submit to the people the question of black suffrage, was negatived, at the polls, by a majority of near 140,000 votes. There are in the State of New-York 43,000 blacks that, having no votes and no state representation, make up the constituency of the members of Congress, when the same state of things at the south is complained of as an intolerable inequality of rep- resentation. Let no man deceive himself with the idea that the prevention of sla- very in territory where it has not before existed is the only object of these people. It is but an incipient step to a total overthrow of the constitution, and a violent inroad upon southern rights. We have but to call attention to one of the resolutions adopted by Mr. Van Burens agents at Utica, as follows: Resolved, That our political action is based upon purely democratic principles~ ]nvolving the natural rights and libeity of manthat a compromise of these prin- ciples would be a surrender of them, to which we cannot submit; that consistency and duty require that we support, by our influence and suifrages, no other candi- date for any office, than those who are openly identified with us in principle, feeling and action in the advancinv and free institutions. of free speech, free action, free territory, free trade, The import of the words free speech, free action, free institu- tions, is openly avowed to mean the right of going into the southern states and publishing and speaking abolition doctrines, and by free action, to incite to insurrection, and promote a servile war, if need be. The words bear no other construction than this, by which the advocates of the resolution passed seek to secure the abolition votes. All patriots and true friends of the country will pause before they lend countenance, directly or indirectly, to this soul-harrowing course. Happily, however, through an accidental publication,~ the American public, and the world at large, have become well acquainted with the utterly (lissolute and abandoned characters of the political rou~s who are the chief actors in this abominable attempt upon the integrity of the Union. * Disclosures of the Intrigues ofNewYork Politicians. Published by Taylor & Co., 2 Astor ilouse. 1845. 1848.] The Last of the Cond6s. 13 TilE LAST OF TilE CONDESS THE worlds history is, to so great a degree, the record of individual achievement, that our interest in it, or in any period of it, is sure to centre around a few conspicuous actors. It is the personal fortunes of great men we follow through the labyrinths of circumstance and change; it is their successes or catastrol)hies that mark in our recollection the successive epochs of tune. How often it happens that the chronicle of a reign is dull and uninstructive, in comparison with the contemporary biographies that are only accompaniments and illustrations of it ; so inferior in interest is the history of events to the history of lives. Take, for example, the cen- tury and a half following the death of Louis XIII. of France; how brilliant and entertaininghow historically complete, as wellthe array of memoirs that throw into the shade the useless lumber of court historiographers; flooding the whole period with the infinite profit of subsequent authors, whose literary schemes happen to lead them into its circle, where, ~vith very little effort of their own, like the swimmers in the blue grotto of Capri, they straightway become luminous all over with borrowed brilliancy. The life of the great Cond~, which Lord Mahon has very cleverly condensed from the rambling garrulities of ]iiliademoiselle, Madme. de S6~ignds sparkling letters, and the voluminous journals of de Retz, Montpensier, St. Simon, Gourville, and a lost of other material, whose su- perabundance is its only fault, is a good illustration of this latter truth so far as authorship is concerned, and also of the charm of biographical narra- tive first alluded to. Cond~ was only one out of the many great men who figured in the court of the Grande Monarque; but every heroic life is com- plete by itself~ and gains force and prominence by being detached from the perplexing crowd of contemporary affairs and persons. Louis Quatorze is famous by himself; Mazarin has his separate claims for an isolated immor- tality; so has Anne of Austria, so Turenue, so Cond~. We never re- member mens couu:enances as parts of a crowd of faces, but because, in spite of the cro~vd, they impress upon us their own characteristics. Just so is our estimation of the individual actors in the worlds drama, distinct and personal. Were it not, how much of the romance of travel would be lost. Where would he the satisfaction of authenticating ones im l)ressions of character in the midst of the scenes that formed it; of reviving famous memories along ~vit1i famous associations? Where ones enthusiasm at the birthplaces and abodes of genius, or at the battle-fields and graves of heroes? This is the rationale of a visit which we made in the fall of 1846, to CHAN- TILLY, the favorite residence of the great Cond6. Ten years ago it would have been a pilgrimage, for we should have gone in a post-chaise, or on lum- bering French ~vheels of some sort or another, as all well-disposed Protest- ant pilgrims have been in the habit of arriving at continental shrines for the last half century of travel. But rail-roads are fatal to this species of ro- mance. The tourist of 18467S, and so on, is haunted all over Europe by the wheezing, whirling, St. Vitus spectre of Modern Improvement. He is whizzed into Venice at the rate of fifteen miles per hour, over a substan- tial bridr,e spanning the waters with the stoniest sort of indifference to the sea- weeds of the spouseless Adriatic ; is set down at the Pompeii station of the Naples and Castelamare Railroad; and with all the nonchalance of bthe VOL. XXIII.NO. CXXI. 2

1848.] The Last of the Cond6s. 13 TilE LAST OF TilE CONDESS THE worlds history is, to so great a degree, the record of individual achievement, that our interest in it, or in any period of it, is sure to centre around a few conspicuous actors. It is the personal fortunes of great men we follow through the labyrinths of circumstance and change; it is their successes or catastrol)hies that mark in our recollection the successive epochs of tune. How often it happens that the chronicle of a reign is dull and uninstructive, in comparison with the contemporary biographies that are only accompaniments and illustrations of it ; so inferior in interest is the history of events to the history of lives. Take, for example, the cen- tury and a half following the death of Louis XIII. of France; how brilliant and entertaininghow historically complete, as wellthe array of memoirs that throw into the shade the useless lumber of court historiographers; flooding the whole period with the infinite profit of subsequent authors, whose literary schemes happen to lead them into its circle, where, ~vith very little effort of their own, like the swimmers in the blue grotto of Capri, they straightway become luminous all over with borrowed brilliancy. The life of the great Cond~, which Lord Mahon has very cleverly condensed from the rambling garrulities of ]iiliademoiselle, Madme. de S6~ignds sparkling letters, and the voluminous journals of de Retz, Montpensier, St. Simon, Gourville, and a lost of other material, whose su- perabundance is its only fault, is a good illustration of this latter truth so far as authorship is concerned, and also of the charm of biographical narra- tive first alluded to. Cond~ was only one out of the many great men who figured in the court of the Grande Monarque; but every heroic life is com- plete by itself~ and gains force and prominence by being detached from the perplexing crowd of contemporary affairs and persons. Louis Quatorze is famous by himself; Mazarin has his separate claims for an isolated immor- tality; so has Anne of Austria, so Turenue, so Cond~. We never re- member mens couu:enances as parts of a crowd of faces, but because, in spite of the cro~vd, they impress upon us their own characteristics. Just so is our estimation of the individual actors in the worlds drama, distinct and personal. Were it not, how much of the romance of travel would be lost. Where would he the satisfaction of authenticating ones im l)ressions of character in the midst of the scenes that formed it; of reviving famous memories along ~vit1i famous associations? Where ones enthusiasm at the birthplaces and abodes of genius, or at the battle-fields and graves of heroes? This is the rationale of a visit which we made in the fall of 1846, to CHAN- TILLY, the favorite residence of the great Cond6. Ten years ago it would have been a pilgrimage, for we should have gone in a post-chaise, or on lum- bering French ~vheels of some sort or another, as all well-disposed Protest- ant pilgrims have been in the habit of arriving at continental shrines for the last half century of travel. But rail-roads are fatal to this species of ro- mance. The tourist of 18467S, and so on, is haunted all over Europe by the wheezing, whirling, St. Vitus spectre of Modern Improvement. He is whizzed into Venice at the rate of fifteen miles per hour, over a substan- tial bridr,e spanning the waters with the stoniest sort of indifference to the sea- weeds of the spouseless Adriatic ; is set down at the Pompeii station of the Naples and Castelamare Railroad; and with all the nonchalance of bthe VOL. XXIII.NO. CXXI. 2 14 The Last of the Condes~ [Julyf iuineteenth century, stops over a train to explore the wonders of 1Ieidel~ berg and the Wolfsbrunnen. Chantilly is now at a convenient distance of only three or four miles from the Ghemin d~fer da Nord, arid is an easy d(tour, even for travellers in a hurry, en routc from Amiens to Paris. Leaving the train at St. Leu, an omnibus rattles over the hilly road leading to the village; and it was in this republican conveyance that we made our entry, an American party of three, with a grand clatter, into the court-yard of the Hotel dAngleterre. The cold, dark, deserted Salle & manger, with its bare stone floor and great unlighted chimney, augured ill; but the speedy appearanceof the land- lady, with a couple of bougies, an illuminated edition of good humor and hospitality, followed in the natural order of sequences by a blazing fire on the broad hearth, and active preparations for a good dinner, soon brought about a restoration of confidence. The evening ~vent off pleasantly in that inexhaustible, after dinner, fireside chat of travellersthe staple whereof is to-days experience and to-morrows anticipations, and we went to bed fully prepared to enjoy that bon repos which every considerate French landlady wishes her gues:s. Next morning the black-eyedfiule de chambre showed us a short cut to the chateau. It was a pleasant road, running along the outskirts of the town, parallel to the main street within, leading us, ~vith considerable saving of paving stones and distance, past a ro~v of iiice rural residences, fronting on the smooth plain that intervenes between the town and the forest of Chantilly. Presently we came to a vast ruin, whose grand proportions and imposing front, as it stood on an eminence at some distance from the town, led us to suppose it the remains of the great chateau, which we knew had been destroyed in the old Revolution. But a reference to Murr~ y proved it to be only the ruins of the stablesbuilt in the most princely style, to contain 180 horses; and even now, in their dilapidation, roofless and crumb- ling, a splendid pile, easily to be mistaken for a palace. Speaking of Con- dds stables, suggests an anecdote, which illustrates some traits of his char- acter, and perhaps from its subject matter, may be appropriately enough brought in, in this equestrian corinexion. lie hated a punctilious regard to etiquette and the tiresome court forms of his day; and on one occasion, when the ceremonious Duke de Candale, who was making him a visit, and who never allowed himself to speak even of his own father, the I uke dEpernon, without adding the word Monsieur; Cond6, whose l)atience was quite exhausted, exclaimed Monsieur, my master of the horse, tell Monsieur, my coachman, to harness Messieurs, my horses, to the carriage ! Further on, we reached the gate of the park, and by virtue of a billet d entree, ~vere admitted into its enclosure, free to explore its beauties at will. The grounds are charmingly disposed, unlike the stiff magnificence of Ver- sailles, where grove nods to grove, each alley has its brotherwith less regard to mathematics, and more deference to nature. It was Condd himself who delighted to direct their arrangement and deco- ration. He had a natural fondness for gardening, which here found ample room for its exercise. The shady avenues, the entangled shrubbery, the crystal sheets of water, the cool retreats and sunny lawns, are all soivenirs of the hero. True it is, that the Chantilly of to-day is sadly fallen from its high estate, and the glowing descriptions of Desormeaux and Gourville, who dwell on its magnificence as worthy of note, even in the extravagant era of its creation, far surpass its present reality. The parterres and stately statues; the prodigious number of fountains which were heard night and day, and which were ever refreshing the air; the grand canal, ~vhose wor& s cost upwards of 40,000 livres yearly ; of these, the Revolution de-~ 1848.] The Last of the Gond~s. 15 stroyed the most. But nature, says Lord Mahon, who visited Chantilly with a reverent enthusiasm, does not yield so readily to the violence of man, and knows how to repair his ravages. Not long ago, (in September, 1841,) I could still find scope to admire the wild recesses of that unpruned forest, those limpid arid gushing streams, those light green Arbele poplars, which have taketi root amongst the ruins of the Grand Chflteau, and which 1)0W surround it with their quivering shade; those mossy paths, and those nawthorne bowers; those gardens restored with care, and where the most beautiful orange trees and the most brilliant flowers are once more shed- ding their fragrance. in the midst of this luxuriant beauty stood formerly two palaces, the Grand Clrdteau and the Petit G/idteau, as they were called. Of these, the former, as I have already said, was long since destroyed. The indiscrimi- nate ravages of the Revolution were fatal to its preservation. Its bseless splendor, and the accumulations of ornament and art which it contained found no favor in the sight of the republicans of 95~. Besides, the princel halls of Chantilly were reminiscences of the old regirne, a perpetual souvenir of the hated Bourbons, a tnonument of a doomed aristocracy and a de- throned race. Its destruction was complete; a palace once, and now a ruinsuch is its short histdry. But though thus blotted from almost any traces of existence, the associations that surround the decaying walls are neither few nor insignificant. It was ~here that an heroic career attained the summit of its grandeur in that calin retirement, which is the crown of a successful life. After thirty-five years of action and renown, it was here that Condd, in the enjoyment of kind companionship, the recollection of an eventful life, and the practice of congenial pursuits, solaced and enlivened his old agk Looking back from this quiet retreat upon the scenes of his past career, checquered by every variety of fortune, the retrospect can hardly have failed to astonish even himself. We can imagine the veteran hero retracing the steps by which he had mounted, through half a century of toil, to the eminence of his fame; and it would be hard to find a picture more varied by the lights and shadows of destiny, than that which such a con- templation would aflbrd. A quiet prelude to the after years of incessant activity and intrigue, were his school days, in the old provincial city of Bourges, where, under the charge of La Boussiere, and stern Father Pelletier, and kind Father Goutier, he learned the rudiments, and car- ried off the palm amongst the crowd of scholars; where, too, on the old Gothic balustrade of Jacques Cmurss mansion, lie read, and perhaps adopted as his own, the inspiring motto, A vaillants Creurs, rien impossible. From this opening scene, the events of his life follow in quick succession. The rash generalship of the armies of Picardy and Champagne confided to him, an inexperienced youth of twenty, less from any ability already die- played, than from the obsequious policy of Mazarin, then fresh in his dan- gerous authority, and anxious to strengthen his new tninistry by a league with the princes of the blood; followed by that tremendous victory in the forests of Rocroy, which made him the first captain of the age, and the strongest support of the ambitious Regency of Anne of Austria; the suc- cessive perils and triumphs of Thionville and Fribourg; the campaign of the Rhine; the sieges of Dunkirk and Lerida; the battle of Lens, celebrated as one of the most glorious which the reign of Louis XLV. could boast; these were only the first fruits of a harvest of renown. The dark, unnatural wars of the Fronde; the subtle intrigues of the Louvre, ending in Condds dis- grace, defeat, and year of painful imprisonment, whose rigors were height- The Last of ike Cond~~s. [July.~ ened by a knowledge of the perils of his friends, and the tortures of a long suspense, follow this brilliant period like an eclipse; lightened only by the heroic exertions of Cl6mence de Maill6 for the rescue of her husband, as admirable and as successful at last, and as worthy of praise, as his ingrati- tude and cold neglect, and final abandonment of her, are worthy of censure and odium. The release and rebellion of the hero; his brilliant exploits at the head of the Spanish armies, beginning with the siege of Arras, and end- ing with the battle of the Downs; the final peace of the Pyrenees, and his restoration to court confidence and favor, merited by his last campaigns, fought, like his first, for the glory of France, complete the catalogue of the achievements and vicissitudes of his life. The Gascon was not so far from the truth, who, when the penurious Duke dEnghien, (Cond6s son,) offered a reward of a thousand crowns fur the best inscription on the victories of his father, presented the follo~ving: Pour c~16brer tant de vertus. Taut de hauts faits, et tant de gloire, Mille & us! rien que mule 6cus Ce nest pas un sou par victoire ! After so turhulent a career, the retirement of Chantilly was to Cond6 an Elysiurn of repose. By a secret article in the Treaty of the Pyrenees, it had been stipulated that these domains should be given up to the king upon his paying ajust compensation for their value; and Louis XIV., whose liking for Chantilly was almost as great as that of Cond6 himself, once asserted his rights, and threatened to dispossess his favorite. Sire, said Condd, You are the master, but I have a favor to ask of your majestyit is to leave me at Chantilly as your bailiff! The king understood tl~ answer, and had the generosity and good sense to give up his claim. After this, he visited the veteran in his retreat. The fetes in honor of this mark of royal condescension, are recorded as displays of unrivalled magnificence, worthy of description ~s minute and glowing as that in which Scott has immortal- ized the Elizabethan festivities of Kenilworth. During their progress, occurred the well-known catastrophe of Vatel, the most heroic of cooks. The story is well told by Madame de S6vign6, and deserves a record as one of the most authentic of the memorabilia of Chantiily. The king arrived at Chantilly on Thursday evening; the promenade and the collation served in spots carpetted with jonquilsall this went off perfectly. They supped; there were several tables at which the roast was wanting, in conse- quence of more dinners being required than had been expected. This had a great effect upon Vatel. He exclaimed several times, My honor is gone! Here is an affront which I cannot bear! He said to Gourville, My head s~vims; for twelve nights I have not slept; pray assist me in giving the orders. Gourville consoled m as well as he could. The roast which had been wanting, not at the kiugs ~le, but at the twenty-fifth, was always recurring to his thoughts. Gourville i.. iormed Monsieur Ia Prince of his state of mind. Monsieur le Prince went as fu~ as Vatel~s o~vn chamber, and said to him, Vatel, all is going on well; nothing could be finer than the kings supper. Momiseigneur, replied he, your kindness over powers rue. I know that the roast was wanting at two of the tables. Not at all, said the prince; all is going on perfectly ivell; do not distress yourselL Midnight comes. The fireworks did not succeed; they are covered by a cloud; they cost sixteen thousand francs. At four oclock in the morning, Vatel goes. about everywhere ; he finds every one asleep; he meets a little boy who is bring- ing two loads of sea-fish ; he inquires of him, Is this all P Yes, sir, replied the other, not knowing that Vatel had sent to all the sea-port towns. Vatel waits some time; the other purveyors do not come: he becomes wildly excited; he thinks t~ere will be no further supply; he finds Gourville, and says to him, Sir, I shall never survive this affront- Gourville laughs at him. Vatel goes up to his 17 1848.] The Last of the Cond~s. room, places his sword against the door, and runs it thiough his heart; but it was only at the third stroke, br he gave himself two which were not mortal; he falls to the ground dead. The sea-fish, however, arrive from all sides; Vatel is wdnted to distribute them; they go to his room; they knock; they bieak open the door; they find him bathed in his own blood; they rush to the prince, who is in despair. ~ * * * He mentions it mournfully to the king; they say it is to be attribu- ted to too high a sense of honor, according to his views; they applaud his charac- ter; some praise, and others blame his courage.~~* After this royal visit, there was little to disturb the quiet of Chantilly sluring the last years of Cond& s life. On his death, which happened the 11th of December, 1686, his son, the Duke dEnghien, became its pro- prietor. He enlarged and embellished the Petit Ghdteau, which stood at a little distance from the Grand filhdteau, and still remains. It is by no means insignificant in its proportions, notwithstanding its appellation, which was given it only to distinguish it from its larger neighbor. it is surrounded by the ~vaters of a little lake, in whose clear depths its quaint, elaborate archi- tecture is fancifully reflected. The old state rooms in the interior look rather dingy and desolate, but there are many souvenirs of Cond6 still remaining to give them an interest, apart from their carving, and gilding, and Louis Quatorze furniture. Of these the most conspicuous is the great ivory hilted sword of the hero, a weapon of most formidable dimensions, a silent memento, not only of the courage of Cond~, but of the daring and chivalry of centuries. In the long gallery of pictures, representing the exploits of the great gond~, is a curious one, of which Lord Mahon gives the history, as follows: The Duke dEnghien did not choose to omit in the pictures, which by his orders were painted, repiesenting the history of his father, any of the great actions which Cond~ had performed at the head of the Spanish armies. On the other hand, he ~vould not venture to expose to the eyes of all France, the exploits which had been directed against herself. The painter could not find any means for re- ~onciling the wishes of the -Duke with his scruples. Enghien himself, supplied a very happy device for this object. The Muse of History is represented as tearing with indignation, and flinging far from her, the leaves of a book which she holds in her hands. On these leaves are written, the Relief of Camhray,the Relief of Valenciennes,the Retreat from before Arras ;while in the centie of the picture Cond~ is seen to stand, using all his efforts to impose silence on Fame, who, with a trumpet in her hand, persists in publishing his other exploits against France. Chantilly is now, (or was, before the Revolution of February,) the pro- perty of the Duke dAumale, the third son of Loiis Philippe. In a suite of apartments, fitted up iii the utmost luxuriance and comfort which modern taste could devise, contrasting strangely with the bate splendor of the old saloons and galleries, hang the trophies of the presetit heroic proprietor, won in the bloody Algerian campaigns, and exhibited by way of set-off against the more ponderous relics of the great captain. The enthusiastic tourist contemplates in close proximity the sabre of Cond6 and the pistols and holsters of Monsieur le duc dAu male! The present ownership of Chantilly is a mystery. How came this fair domain, with all its souvenirs of greatnes.s,its precious heir-looms of more than royal worth, into the hands of an uncongenial and remote possessor? the wealth of a Cond6 the inheritance of a younger son of the house of Orleatis, a bourgeois duke, the son of an accidental king? The answer to this question involves a dark enigma, difficult to solve, perhaps never to be solved, and a story of calamity, perhaps of crime. A story, whose * Letter of Madame de S6vign~, of April 26, 1C71. (Mabons Life of Condd, ii., 123. 124.) 18 The Last of the Gondt~s. [July, sombre details, its minutia~ of certain horror and Cotijectural guilt, fit it to be told in the deepest recesses of the tangled forest, that within sight of the grand chateau lifts its dark crest against the sky. There, in some wild soli- tude, cavernous with damp shade, and spectral with misshapen forms of nature, might be ~vhispered the tale which I am about to relate, and which includes the tragic catastrophe of the house of Cond~, and shows the title deeds of Chantilly, as many think, stained with the blood of an innocent victim. Louis JOSEPH HENRI DR BOURBON, Prince de (~onde, the last of the Cond6s,* was born at Paris the 13th of April, 1756. His father, a zealous supporter of the throne and its prerogatives, still survived when the Revo- lution of 90 made a prisoner of the King and vagabonds of the noblesse. Both father and son emigrated. The latter fought on the side of legitimacy, and during the campaign of 93 was wounded at the attack of Bersoheim. In 1800 he went to England, and there awaited the Restoration. During this interval of exile, he received, in 1804, the news of the cruel condemna- tion and execution of his only son, the Duke dEnghien, that unfortunate youth, the memory of whose tragic fate hangs like a curse over the dark walls and ramparts of Vincennes. It was thus that this unhappy man wit- nessed the extinction of his race, and foresaw, in his own death, the end of the most illustrious branch of the Bourbons. Cn returning to France, his estates and rank were restored, and the aged prince divided hi~ residence between his hotel in Paris, and his chateaux at Sr. Leu and Chantilly, living in quiet and inaction, taking no part in the politics of the day, or in public affairs of any sort. Upon this life of tranquillity and repose, broke the storm of the Revolution of 1830. The old man, a royalist at heart, and whose whole career had borne witness to his loyalty, but now infirm and inactive, was unequal in this crisis, even to an avowal of his opinions; he was un- certain, undecided, irresolute, and the people had conquered and the King fled, before he had recovered from the first surprising and confusing shock. But not entirely owing to the feebleness of age or the listlessness of ennui was his irresolution. In spite of the facts that an Orleans had voted for the death of Louis XVI., and another Orleans had fought under the flag of Dumouniez, he had become strangely bound, against his inclinations and contrary to the whole spirit of his life, to this family, the descendants of the abhorred Egalit6, whom the events of July and the ruin of the Bourbons were to make sovereign. The affections of Cond6 were in the right place, for we must still reckon amongst the virtues the loyalty that endures reproach, and survives (lisgrace; his sympathies verQ with the dethroned muon arch and his abandoned family: the name of Charles X. brought sadness to his heart, and tears to his eyes, and the mournful exclamation to his lips I have lived long enough; to behold two Revolutionsit is too much 1 But destiny, often two-fold, held him in fetters of necessity from open opposition to the new dynasty; paralyzed his purposes; defeated his will; and the last of the Cond6s, whose place in the moment of danger was at the side of his king, was chained to a spiritless inaction through the artful intrigues of a cunning and unscrupulol]s woman. For a long time the old Prince de Cond6 had been governed by that ab- solute and tyrannical sway which commences in the abaiidonment of passion, and is fixed by the force of habit. The Baronesse de Feuchtres, a woman of rare beauty, ready wit, and a resolute spirit, had obtained this empire ovcr * Jo the narrative that follows, I have drawn largely from the details given in ho Causes Celebres in the case of Madame de Feoch~res; and also from ire flismoiro des Dix Ans. by Louis Blanc, who devotes the greater part of a chapter to the investigation of this mysterious affair,Vol. ii p. 25. 19 1848.1 The Last of the Gond~s. his affections and his will. Of English parents, but of obscure and doubtful origin, from a second or third rate actress at Covent Garden, she had risen to this position of fortune and influence. Such instances are not rare. In our own day we have seen a ballet dancer hissed from the boards of the Grand Opera, to reappear the reigning star of the most refined court of the continent. Failing of the applauses of the pit, by some brilliant coups dessai, these meritless daughters of the stage captivate the hearts of princes, and usurp the prerogatives of queens. The Baronesse de Feucheres was one of the most successful, and wiser than many of her class. Not unmind- ful of the fickleness of passion, and the caprices of furtune, she had turned to the best account the complaisance of her lover. A legacy of the domains of Saint Leu and Boissy, iu 1S~24, and of various other sums in the next year, amounting in the whole to a million of francs, were the substantial proofs of his regard. But the limit of the baroness expectations ~vas not reached by this princely munificence. The revenues of the Forest of Enghien, besides other estates, of greater or less value, were the next de- mands upoti the resources and the good nature of her lover. But in the midst of this successful career, a small but threatening cloud appeared on the horizon of her prospects. The Princes de Rohan, the next heirs of the Duke de Bourbon, already looked with a jealous eye on the rapid encroach- ments which this ambitious woman was making upon their vested rights. Little by little, the inheritance of the Cond6s was being shorn of some of its most lucrative dependencies, and bid fair to come do~vn despoiled of its most substantial features. The opposition of these expectant heirs to the validity of the legacies in her favor was too apparent an intention to escape the notice of the baroness. Forewarned she was forearmed. A woman, a coquette, an intrigante; with wit, and an established position, and still tin- wasted charms, she was not easily to be driven from the field by these oppo- nents, whose rights were all contingent, and whose resources were only in expectancy. She sat about devising means for her permanent security. What were these means and what their success, we shall presently see. Between the Dtike de Bourbon and the Duke of Orleans, Louis Philippe, (Comte de Neuilly of the present d~tte, ci-dev~nt Roi des Fran~ais,) there existed little sympathy or friendship. The latter was separated from his kinsman by virtue of his dissimilar career, and his opposite ideas, associa- tions and expectations, and a formal intercourse only was maintained between the two families. As to Madame de Feuch~res, she was not so much as re- ceived at the Palais Royal, the residence of Louis Philippe. Scrupulous in the practice of domestic virtues, this irreproachable p~re de famille had re- garded as a scandal her unconcealed ascendency at the little court of S~. Leu, and had refused to adroit her into the correct, though punctilious circle of which he was the centre. But of what avail are the rules of a conven- tional morality against the considerations of absorbing interest? This same Madame de Feuch~res, frowned on and repulsed in l82~2, excluded from the saloons of the Palais Royal, or the less restrained familiarities of Nenilly, becomes, in lS29, the friend and confidante of the exemplary Duke, and the pious Duchess of Orleans! The paths that seemed so widely separated before, suddenly unite, and the formidable differences of rank are merged in a common ambition. The explanation of this riddle is easy. Alarmed by the apprehensions alluded to, and anxious to guaranty her doubtful ex- pectations, and provide against fatal emergencies, rIO safer or wiser plan could be devised than that to which Madame de Feuch~res had reconrse. It was nothing less than this: to secure the favor of the most influential family in France, and their strong support of her interests1 in the nature of 20 The Last of the (Jond~s. [Ju?y, an active gratitude for benefits conferred. Her scheme was soon matured, and its developement furnishes the solution of many difficulties, the recon- cilernent of many conflicting facts in this strange hi story. With the consent and active co-operation of the Duke of Orleans, and the assurances of a firm regard and the gratitude of a mother on the part of the Duchess, Madame de Feuch~res, in a letter, at once artful, imperious and tender, presses upon her aged lover a strange and unanticipated step, no other than the adoption of an heir to his titles and fortune, and that heir, the young Duke dAuinale, the third son of Louis Philippe dOrleans! This proposal was most ob- noxious to the Duke de Bourbon. The advantage which the artful baron- ess would gain he may not have fully discerned, or he might have been in- different to; but to leave the inheritance of the Cond~s to a family which had been conspicuous amongst the enemies of the nobility and the throne7 seemed to him a forfeiture, and almost an impiety. Little accustomed, however, to resist the solicitations, or contradict the plans of Madame de Feuch~res, in spite of his repugnance and better judgment, and the claim of his rightful heirs, he found himself gradually drawn into the desired acqui- escence. Finally, as a last resource, he overcame the restraints of etiquette, and with a despairing candor, he threw himself on the generosity of the I)uke of Orleans, in the hope of extricating himself from the consequences of a promise, extorted almost by compulsion. With this view he writes a letter, in ~vhich he characterizes the proposed arrangetrient as infinitely painful to him, (infininient penible,) confesses that it was concluded by Madame de Feuch~res without his consent, and with premature haste, and appeals to the generosity, the friendship, the delicacy of feeling of his kinsman to extricate him from an affair so tormenting and harrassing, and to obtain from the baroness, what he was himself unable to gain, a promnise of freedom from further importunity on a subject which threatened him witi misery for the rest of his days. As the result of this appeal, and ostensibly to plead the cause of the prince, the I)uke of Orleans, soon after the receipt of this letter, had an intervie~v with the baroness, at the Palais Bourbon, in presence of a witness. The father of the proposed heir, with a magnanimous and disinterested modesty, declined the offered inheritance, and implored the benefactress of his son to cease her efforts in his behalf; but the inflexible baroness was deaf to his entreaties, and Louis Philippe resigned himself so far to the fortunate destiny that was thrust upon his fa- mily, as to direct his homme daffaires, M. Dupin aini to prepare, but in the most private manner, the draught of a last will and testament in favor of the Duke dAumale to receive the signature of Cond6. Thus, the last hope of the prince was cut off. At his next interview with Madame de Feuch~res, a terrible scene occurred, such as only a sense of confidence betrayed, and love repaid by ingratitude and treachery, can provoke. At last the old man yielded: the chains were rivetted too strongly; he resigned himself to their inexorable clasp; and on the day following, the 39th August, 1S~9, he exe- cuted, in due form, a testament by which the Duke dAum ale was created his universal heir, and a legacy at the same time assured to Madame de Fen- ch~res of about ~2,0OO,0OO of francs! Such was the state of affairs when the Revolution of July occurred, and such, in part, the explanation of the doubtful and unhappy position of the Prince de Cond6; such the connexion of mutual interest and expectation between the adventurous baroness and the new dynasty. The netitrality of the Duke de Bourbon secured him from attack by either party, his person and property were respected, and the whirlwind passed on its destructive way without disturbing the outward calm of his existence. 1848.] The Last of the (Jond(s. 21 But the contest in his own feelings had been severe and tempestuous. It was not only the choice between monarchy and liberalism, between the Bourbons and their enemies, that distressed him; but the necessity of for- saking a family to which he was bound by those ties of kindred, and loyalty, and affection, which it would be dishonor to violate, for another which he detested in fact, but to whose interests he was pledged by deliberate and formal acts, confirmed by sanctions, universally regarded as the most em- phatic in the power of a man to give. But the restoralion of peace rendered acquiescence in the new order of things necessary; the Duke de Bourbon gave in his adhesion to the government of Louis Philippe; his rights were confirmed, and he resumed the even tenor of his life, so fearfully interrupted. Only his relations with Madame de Feuch~res seem to have suffered strange alteration. Towards her, though still affectionate, his manner was restrained and forced; his confidence reserved; the sound of her name even, appeared to strike him painfully. There was no open rupture between them, but it was evident that private quarrels were not infrequent. The dukes Venus had developed the latent virago qualities that are sometimes ingredient, as psychologists tell us, in the most seraphic tempers. These symptoms of dis- sension were apparent to all the inmates of St. Leu. Finally, the duke surprised two of his most attached domestics by the news that he intended taking a long journey, which, from the secrecy with which it was to be accom- plished, bore more resemblance to a flight. From the whole household it was to be studiously concealed, but from no one more strictly than Madame de Feuch~res. Pending its arrangements, some strange circumstances hap- pened, which excited gloomy conjectures and apprehensions in the ch& teau. An inflamed eye, (lceil en sang,) as to the cause of which, the duke, for some reason or other, first prevaricated, and afterwards inconsistently ex- plaineda strange mark of tenderness, though, by the way, if attributable to the lovely Baronne; a letter pushed secretly under the door leading from a private staircase into his chamber, which, when carried to the prince, threw him into a violent agitation; most of all, a desire which he expressed to Manoury, his valet de chambre, that he should sleep at the door of his room. Manoury, though a faithful servant, objected, like a true selfish French- man, on the ground of etiquette, saying, that it would appear very odd, and that such a duty fell to the lot of Lecomte, the valet de service. The duke did not insist, but the order was not given to Lecomte. He had been in- troduced into the cht~teau by Madame de Feuch~res. Everything was finally arranged for the departure of the duke. A million of francs, in bank notes, had been provided; a skilful plan of deception ma- tured, to render delay or detection impossible; the 31st of August fixed upon as the day for carrying into execution the well-arranged movement; and the perplexed old prince hoped, on the first of September, to be well on die road towards Geneva, out of the clutches of his troublesome legatees and heirs en totalit~. Once safely beyond the persecutions of Madame de Feuch~res, and a few resolute strokes of the pen could undo the mischief he lamented. The 26th arrived; the morning was signalized by another sc~ne between the duke and the baroness, mysterious and violent; but its effects passed off, and at dinner, amongst a circle of friends, the old man was gay and un- restrained. In the evening lie played at wliist, Madame de Feuch~res forming one of the party; he was more than usually lively and affable, and at a late hour retired from the saloon, with the cheerful salutation, A demain ! His physician, the Chevalier Bonnie, and the valet, Lecomte, attended him in his chamber. He retired as usual; and to the question of Lecomte 22 The Last of the Gond~s. [July, At what hour will your highness be called ? replied, with his usual tranquillity, At eight oclock. The chamber of the Duke de Bourbon was on the second floor of the chkteau. It communicated by a narrow passage with an ante-chamber. This ante-chamber opened on one side thriugh a small dressing-room on the grand hail of the chkteau; on the other upon a private staircase, lead- ing below, to the floor containing the apartment of Madame de Feuch~res, and her niece, Madame de Flassans; and thence to a corridor conducting to the outer court. Immediately under the dukes bedroom were those of the Ahbd Briant, secretary to the baroness, and some domestics attached particularly to her service. In this night of the 26th August, no unusual noises disturbed the in- mates of St. Len. The gardes-chassc took their customary rounds in the park surrounding the chateau, and found everything quiet and in order; within, a profound calm reigned throughout. In the morninr at eio-h t oclock, the punctual Lecomte ~ at the dukes door. There was no reply. Monseigneur is sound asleep, he said to himself; it would be a pity to disturb him. Twenty minutes after, he returned with the doctor, Bonnie; they passed through the dressing room, of which Lecomte kept the key, and knocked again at the inner door, which was bolted. Still no reply. Alarmed at this strange silence, they roused Madame de Feuch~res. She joined them in a mometit or two, en dishabille; when he hears my voice, said she, he will answer. She herself knocked at the door, and called aloud: Ouvrez, Monseigneur! ouvrez! cest moil cest moi !~ Still no reply. The alarm spread through the chateau; the whole household assembled at the fatal door; a bar of iron was brought; the panels broken in; Bonnie and the others entered. The room was almost dark; the shutters were closed, but a wax candle, placed behind a screen, still burned on the hearth; by its faint light they saw that the bed was empty, and on further observation the Duke de Bour- bon was discovered, apparently standing by the window, his right cheek leaning against the inside shutter, his head slightly inclined, in the position of a man who is listening. They threw open the windows on the opposite side of the room; the light of the morning poured in, and revealed a frightful spectacle. The duke was not standing, but hangingsuspended from the bar of the shut- ters, by two handkerchiefs, one tied within the other; his head had fallen on his breast; his face was pale; his knees bent; his feet just touched the carpet. Succor was useless; he had ceased to live. So dreadful a sight distracted the whole household. Madame de Pen- chores was naturally in hysterics. There was presence of mind enough, however, on the part of somebody, to summon the authorities of St. Len, to take judicial cognizance of so fearful a catastrophe. Before ten oclock they had arrived, and the chamber of the unfortunate duke was converted into a tribunal of investigation. The state of the body was examined, Man- oury, Bonnie, and Madame de Feuch~res gave their evidence in due form, and after a protracted deliberation, the procureur-g6n6ral , vho, on the news reaching Paris, had received instructions from the king to attend in person upon the inquest, reported to M. Dupont de lEure, then keeper of the seals, as the result of his researches, mainly as follows: That the Duke de Bourbon had come to his death by stranguldtion; that there were no traces of violence on his person, or disorder in the furniture of the room; that the door leading into the chamber was bolted as usual; that the death of 1848.] The Last of the Gonde~s. 23 the duke was his own act. Besides this summary, the procurenr-g6ne%al gave in detail the depositions of the witnesses, both as to the events of the morning of the 27th, and as to the state of mind of the duke previous to that date, and argued from the melancholy which he was said to have mani- fested, a certain evidence of suicidal intentions. The obsequies of the last of the Cond~s were performed with a just so- lemnity. His heart was carried to Chantilly; and there the Abb6 P~lier, his almoner, delivered a funeral discourse. The audience was large, and distinguished; a melancholy silence prevailed; and how startling was the impression, ~vhen the abbe, in a voice full of solemnity and assurance, de- clared, that the Duke de Bourbon was innocent of his death in the sight of God! In fact, not only in the mind of this priest, the mourner and the eulo- giser of an affectionate and benevolent benefactor, but in many others, especially in the inquisitive circles of Paris, behind this idea of suicide, so convincingly displayed by the court physicians, and magistrates, and law- yers, there lurked dark suspicions of crimeand undefined, vague conjec- tures of treachery and midnight murder. Sinister murmurs multiplied in all parts; they gained ground; the decision of the authorized inquest was reviewed and appealed from; at last it became the subject of legal investi- gation, in the proceedings instituted by the Princes de Rohan, to set aside the will of the Duke de Bourbon, on the ground of undue influ- ence and coercion. M. Ilennequin, in his brilliant arguments before the court of Premi~re instance, on behalf of the heirs-at-law, resumed the ex- amination of the mystery, less in its bearings upon the civil claims of his clients, than as an act of justice to an illustrious name, stained with the reproach of a cowardly and ignominious death; for the purpose, too, of giving to the dread suspicions that enveloped this dark tragedy a definite form and expression, that might, perhaps, evoke from the darkness that sheltered them, the actors and instigators of the crime. This review, searching and ingenious, disclosed an array of facts and circumstances, which, though hardly sufficient to fix the charge of ascertained guilt, cast a deep shadow of suspicion, upon the principal figurante in the scenes we have already described. The explanation of the Duke de Bourbons death by the supposition of his suicide, had been assiduously upheld by Madame de Feuch~res, from the moment of its fearful discovery. The door bolted from within; the silence that had reigned unbroken through the house during ihe whole of the night so fatal to its master ; the spirits of the duke, shattered by the events of July, and, ever since, disturbed and unnatural ; these were ad- vanced as indisputable proofs of his having died by his own hand, a victim to the exaggerated forebodings and chagrins that had oppressed him. But the whole tenor of his character and life, it was argued, an contraire, were opposed to this hypothesis. It is not common for old men to rush precipitately into the graves that wait for them at so small a distance; nor was there anything in the outward behavior of the (luke to indicate the purpose of self-destruction. The journey for which he had made such elaborate preparations, the well-arranged plan of his departure, extending to the minutest details, it would be absurd to regard as only a ruse to cover the suspicion of his fatal intentions, especially as they were known 1)ut to two or three persons, and those the easiest to deceive by far less laborious a process. Besides, the old mans spirits, however affected by the shock of the three days, had gradually regained their calm and tranquillity, and on the very night of his death had been noticed as more than usually vivacious. 24 Tke Last of tke CondLs. [July, His leave-taking of his guests, that cheerful A demain ! could it be that beneath this assured expectation of to-morrow, there lurked the dismal purpose of a stealthy suicide? Following him into his bed-chamber, and examining the details of his behavior, as they were gathered from the state of things on the next morning, by a species of testiniony cx necessta/e rei; and the notion of his suicide, however firmly a matter of belief before, seems, by imperceptible degrees, to vanish from the mind. Not one of the dukes ordinary habits was interrupted at this time. His watch he had wound up as usual. The candles he had put out, (with the exception of the hougie which burned on the hearth.) It was his custom to make a knot in his handkerchief on retiring, if he wished to be reminded of any engagement for the next day; and such a knot he had tied on this last night of his life, which was to know no morning. A strange attention to trifles on the part of a man determined upon death. It was evident, and admitted on all sides, that the duke had lain down on his bed; his move- ments from that time are unknown and unsupposed, saving such frightful conjectures as the imagination may form, of that silent, secret, midnight death, so strange, so unnatural, requiring so much arrangement, and caution, and time, relieved by no possibility of its having been resolved on in the heat of passion, or accomplished with a sudden violence. His own act, or the act of another, it was artful, deliberate, and circumspect. The dtike diedstrangled between the shutters and the carpet; the room was found undisturbed, and the door bolted. But a simple experi- ment with a thin piece of tape, showed how easily that same bolt could be drawn and withdrawn by a p~rson on the outside; and a few trials demon- strated the facility with ~vhich the assassin, if assassin there was, could have entered, and escaped, by this very door. The dukes habit in sleep- ing was to lie close upon the outer edge of the bedso close, that for fear of his falling out, as children do sometimes, a blanket folded in four was placed underneath the mattress on that side, to give it an inward inclination; but in th~ morning, the bed was found depressed in the centre, according to the custom of nine sleepers in ten. Had it been arranged by some band, careful of appearances, but ignorant of the very habits that it tried to coun- terfeit? A still more insignificant circumstance became, in a review of the combined minutite of the case, strikingly suspicious. The prince never used slippershis feet were tender, and instead (if slippers, he had a sort of stocking foot attached to his trowsers; nevertheless, a pair of slippers were always placed by his bed-room door, and in the morning invariably found in the place where they had been put. how happened it that on this morning, of all others in the year, they should be found carefully de- posited by the bed, as if they had been used by the duke on retiring or risinr? Was the supposition of Manoury just, that the authors of the crime, which he believed to have been comniitted, in repairing the disorder they had made, thought that they were most ingeniously eluding suspicion by the exactness with which they consulted probabilities, and re-arranged the tell-tale furniture, even to the smallest article? The duke, as has already been stated, ~vas found hanging by tw~ hand- kerchiefs, forming two rings, of which the upper was attached to the bar of the shutters, the lower surrounded his neck. But it was universally known that his wound, received in the attack of Berscheim, had so disabled his right arm as to render it difficult for him to raise it even as high as his head, much more, it was argued, to complete such an arrangement as this described. A chair was indispensable to assist him in a~y event; but lie was so infirm as not to be able to ascend the steps of a grand escalier J848.] The Last of the Cond~s. without difflculty~ Moreover, the knot in the handkerchief attached to the bar of the shutters was difficult to unloose, so skilfully and firmly had it been tied; but the maladresse of the prince was well known; he could hardly fasten the strings of his shoes. Jn this last moment of his life did his hand grow steadier, his limbs stronger, in the Solitude of midnight and the presence of death? Bot there was still another circumstance which must be added to the sus- picious category. The position of the dukes chamber has been already described, and mention made of the secret staircase7 which led from the ante-chamber to the lower floor, communicating with the apartment of Madame de Feuch~res, and the entrance to the chateau. A door opened on this staircase from within. This door, the weight of evidence showed to have remained unfastened during the night of the 26th ! In the morn- ing, on the dicovery of the catastrophe, was it to hide this terrible circum- stance that Madame de Feuch~res, iristea(l of ascending by the private staircase, to which she ~vas no stranger, atid which would seem to have been her most convenient route, half-dressed as she was carefully caine round by the main staircase, and only regained her room ~by the secret pas- sage? The valet, Lecomte, who has been already mentioned as a protege of Madame de Feuch~res; whom the duke ~vas unwilling to charge with the service of sentinel at his chamber-door; who was the first to discover the death of his ill-fated master, contributed in the sequel, less to the clearing up than the deepening of the mystery. His testimony was contradictory7 and his behaviour suspicious. On the day of the funeral, when the body of the deceased Cond~ was exposcd in the illuminated chapel, surrounded by solemn funereal symbols, Lecorute, with his fellow-servants, was a witness of the spectacle. He could not restrain his emotionsthe cry escaped him, Jai un poids sur le ewur ! jen ai le cwur gras I Manoury, who heard him, advised him to confess whatever he might know. Lecomte was silent. Afterwards he tried to explain the meaning of these strange expressions, by attributing them to a fear of losing his place. But the qtiestion cannot fail to arise, might not these mournful exclamations have been the result of at~ irrepressible remorse, quickened into utterance by a last sight of the lifeless victim ? Such were some of the interrogatories with which the advocates, no less of the rights of the heirs, than of the good name of the ancestor, combat- ted the idea of the feloniotis and cowardly death of the last of the Condi~s. Nor did they fail to unfold, in all its complicated details of interest and expediency, and subtle management, the history of the forced legacy, which has been aleady narrated. The most august name in the kingdom was united with that of Madame de Feuchi~ies, in this story of intrigue, almost of conspiracy, now given to the world in all the publicity of a reported trial, colored by the partial eloquence of a zealous advocate, with whose sympathies for his clients were blended certain political resentments, which foutid a safe opportunity of expression in the privileged circle of a court of justice. The connexion of the Duke dOrleans with the mystery of St. Leu, was turned to account by the opposing partizans of the court, and gave point to many sarcasms, and not a few suspicious inquiries. How had it happened that the physician of the prince, Dr. Guerin, had not been called to the post-mortem examination ? That it was left to tIme care of three surgeons, two of whom were bound to the interests of the palace by the closest relations? Why had M. de Broghie forbidden the insertion in the Moniteur, of the funeral oration of the Abb~ Pehi6r at Chantilly? The Last of the (Jon& s. [5uly, What necessity of fate demanded this concurrence of eventsthe ascen- dancy of the House of Orleans? the simultaneous extinction of the House of Cond6? But the suspicions of the legitimists did not control the decision of the courts. The Princes deRohan failed in all their attempts to set aside the will of the duke. The final decision was in favor of its validity; the young Duke dAum ale was pronounced the rightful heir of the Cond~s; and Madame de Feuch~res confirmed in her various possessions and expec- tancies. Mistress of an immense fortune, she repaired to Paris to enjoy its advantages at leisure. It is true, that for some time after the catastrophe at Sr. Leu, her spirits were hardly equal to her good fortune. For fifteen nights, at the Palais Bourbon, she made Madame de Flassans sleep in her chamber, and the Abb6 Briant in the library adjoining, as though she feared the solitude, and the images of terror which might chance to people it. But this passed away; and a gracious reception at court placed her at once in a position of influence, worthy of her perseverance and success. The Cond6 aff~ir was soon forgotten at Paris; or remembered only by those whose business it is to preserve the record of events, for the sake of future contingencies, personal, political, or public. Louis Philippe, who, ~s plain Duke dOrleans, had not considered it disreputable to bargain ~vith a ci-devant actress for the patrimony of the Cond6s, as roi des Francais, extended his operations to include princesses in esse, and crowns infrturo. The insignificant bourgeoise speculation of the Palais Bourbon was quite out of mind. Chantilly, ~vith its parks, and forests, and clear, sylvan lakes, and high memorials of greatness, seemed as fair in its new proprietorship as under the old r6gime; the mystery of its new inheritance few remem- bered, or cared to remember. Latterly, however, since the overturning of the grasping and selfish dynasty of Louis Philippe, the old whispers of suspicion have revived, and there are not wanting those who add to the catalogue of his crimes, the assassination of the last of the Cond~s. There is no evidence to support such a charge. The share of Louis Philippe in the concluding scenes of the Duke de Bourbons life has been given; from his intriguing and ungenerous behavior, inferences may be drawn, but no certain conclusions to fix upon him anything more than the stale charge of that covetousness and unscrupulous desire for family ag- grandizement, which have proved the final win ofhis House. Worse things he may have done; but it is scarcely to be believed that he had a hand in hanging his cousin Cond6 to his own window shutters, like an old broom. Even if he had, the republicans of l~48 are hardly the men to call him to account; it was only a superannuated duke that was put out of the way; the last of a troublesome and expensive family. 1848.1 Poverty and Misery vs. Reform and Progress. 27 P0 VERTY AND MISERY, versus REFORM AND PRO GRESS. Tiiis is the age of reform and progress. This wise saw is continually ringing in our ears. Every enthusiastic believer in the ultimate perfection of our race, and every successful capitalist, inventor and speculator, are ever ready to echo the assertion, without the least reflection. That this is the age of mechanical and scientific improvement, none will be inclined to deny; but when we look around us for the moral, political and social im- provements of the day, we are compelled to admit that of these we have only retained the shadow, the substance having evaporated into thin air. If we look into the old ~vorld, we are particularly struck with the truth of our assertion. It is rio matter to ~vhat point of the compass ~ve steer with our inquiry, or at what point of our proposition we commence our examination, the effect will prove the same. If we turn our attention to politics, and in- quire whether the liberties of the people have been enlarged or improved, we are obliged to conclude that the boasted reforms ~vhich have taken place in the various nations of the earth are merely nominal or theoretical; that the political power of the masses is not really increased since the time of that arch politician, who is said to have founded the government and city of Rome together, although the present movement in Europe commences a new era, and new elements of power are to influence the political con- dition of the people. The Romans and Carthagiriiaris were both governed by patricians or chiefs, in a senatorial capacity ; though in one instance the mode of election is not very certain. The tribes who elected these chiefs under Romulus, appear to have had equal rights, and to have possessed their own municipal regulations; but this iii time was found to be somewhat in- convenient to the ambitious part of the community. The constitution was therefore remo(lelled under Servius Tullius, who divided the tribes into classes, in which the votes were distributed according to the amount of pos- sessions and the payment of taxes, thus throwing the political power into the hands of the wealthy, which they have hitherto under all circumstances, and under every modification of government continued to keep. We may look through the variety of forms which government has assumed since that period, from despotism to feudalism, and from feudalism to modern demo- cracy, without being able to detect, except in a single instance, any infrac- tion of this rule; and in this instance (S~vitzerland) its developements have neither produced grandeur, tranquillity nor happiness for the people. But this may not be considered a fair specimen of the effects of democracy. It may be said that, partly on accounf of its confined and insular position, and partly on account of other circumstances, it has not produced those splendid results which the ardent admirers of democracy could have wished; but one thing it may probably be allowed to provethat democracy alone, even in this enlightened age, is not sufficient to ward off entirely political and social evil. But if we take a survey of Europe, shall we find the condition of the people actually better than before the French Revolution? What have Spain and Portugal gained by all the political changes, revolutions and insurrections through which they have passed? Our verdict must be that there is no perceptible social or political amendment; they are still in a state of poverty, distraction and misery. The whole of Italy is at present, from the Alps to its most southern extremity, in a state of commotion and insurrection. A nd Austria, with her iron despotism, trembles at the prox

1848.1 Poverty and Misery vs. Reform and Progress. 27 P0 VERTY AND MISERY, versus REFORM AND PRO GRESS. Tiiis is the age of reform and progress. This wise saw is continually ringing in our ears. Every enthusiastic believer in the ultimate perfection of our race, and every successful capitalist, inventor and speculator, are ever ready to echo the assertion, without the least reflection. That this is the age of mechanical and scientific improvement, none will be inclined to deny; but when we look around us for the moral, political and social im- provements of the day, we are compelled to admit that of these we have only retained the shadow, the substance having evaporated into thin air. If we look into the old ~vorld, we are particularly struck with the truth of our assertion. It is rio matter to ~vhat point of the compass ~ve steer with our inquiry, or at what point of our proposition we commence our examination, the effect will prove the same. If we turn our attention to politics, and in- quire whether the liberties of the people have been enlarged or improved, we are obliged to conclude that the boasted reforms ~vhich have taken place in the various nations of the earth are merely nominal or theoretical; that the political power of the masses is not really increased since the time of that arch politician, who is said to have founded the government and city of Rome together, although the present movement in Europe commences a new era, and new elements of power are to influence the political con- dition of the people. The Romans and Carthagiriiaris were both governed by patricians or chiefs, in a senatorial capacity ; though in one instance the mode of election is not very certain. The tribes who elected these chiefs under Romulus, appear to have had equal rights, and to have possessed their own municipal regulations; but this iii time was found to be somewhat in- convenient to the ambitious part of the community. The constitution was therefore remo(lelled under Servius Tullius, who divided the tribes into classes, in which the votes were distributed according to the amount of pos- sessions and the payment of taxes, thus throwing the political power into the hands of the wealthy, which they have hitherto under all circumstances, and under every modification of government continued to keep. We may look through the variety of forms which government has assumed since that period, from despotism to feudalism, and from feudalism to modern demo- cracy, without being able to detect, except in a single instance, any infrac- tion of this rule; and in this instance (S~vitzerland) its developements have neither produced grandeur, tranquillity nor happiness for the people. But this may not be considered a fair specimen of the effects of democracy. It may be said that, partly on accounf of its confined and insular position, and partly on account of other circumstances, it has not produced those splendid results which the ardent admirers of democracy could have wished; but one thing it may probably be allowed to provethat democracy alone, even in this enlightened age, is not sufficient to ward off entirely political and social evil. But if we take a survey of Europe, shall we find the condition of the people actually better than before the French Revolution? What have Spain and Portugal gained by all the political changes, revolutions and insurrections through which they have passed? Our verdict must be that there is no perceptible social or political amendment; they are still in a state of poverty, distraction and misery. The whole of Italy is at present, from the Alps to its most southern extremity, in a state of commotion and insurrection. A nd Austria, with her iron despotism, trembles at the prox Poverty and Misery vs. Reform and Progress. [July, imity of these movements. It is only in the north-west of the continent of Europe that the eye of the political philosopher can rest with any degree of complacency; and yet these states through various causes, easily pointed out, are neither very happy nor very prosperous. It is only the absence of that extreme poverty and destitution which at this time pervades many other countries, which renders the prospect at all pleasing. If, in our course further west, we should visit France and England, two of the most power- ful and enlightened nations of Europe, we shall find but little cause for gra- tulation. France is justly considered to excel in many of the arts and sciences, but with respect to her morals, social and political condition, it may be fairly questioned whether she has been improved by the process of political aichymy which she has undergone. The second charter of her liberties, after all her experience, has completely failed to secure to her that I)rosperity so fervently hoped for by its founders. It is true that pilitical power has changed hands, but this has produced no benefit to the masses; the whole system is cOrrul)t, and has lately been proved to be so before the highest tribunals of the land, from the highest minister of the crown to the meanest vvter in the provinces. Extreme changes have taken place in so- cial as well as political arrangements; the laws of primogenitnre and entail have been abolished, and laws enacted (prospectively) for the equalization of landed estates; and these laws have had their legitimate results. But if they have divided the estates of the nobles, they have not succeeded in the equalization of wealth. According to the report of the Director General of Dimains (in the year 1837, if our memory serves correctly) the mortgage debt upon the estates of France, parcelled out into small proprietaries of about twelve acres upon the average, amounted to the large sum of eleven thousand millions of francs, charged with an interest more than equal to the interest of the national debt of England, and leaving probably not more than twenty-three or twenty-four per cent. of the whole production for the maintenance of the proprietor and cultivator; if also we take into considera- tion the fact, proved by statistical returns, that France does tiot produce more than fourteen bushels of corn to the acre, or twenty bushels of oats, we need not be astonished at its present social condition. From statistics lately published, it appears that one-eighth of her population are habitually clothed in rags; that nearly three-fifths never eat ~vheaten bread; that very nearly two-thirds wear wooden clogs instead of shoes; that more than three- fourths cannot get wine to drink, (their staple production;) and more than ten-elevenths of the whole population cannot afford to consume sugar and animal food; thus shoxving that out of a population of thirty-three millions, there are only two millions who can obtain all the necessaries and conve- niences of life. Bad as the condition of the people of France is repre- sented to have been previous to the first revolution, it is not to be supposed that it could possibly be worse than at p;esent. What progress, then, have the people of France made towards solving the all-important social problem as respects government? How have they been benefitted by the extreme changes which they have undergone. Some enthusiastic reformers have gone so far as to say that it would be necessary to destroy the popular be- lief in the Bible before any great alteration can be made in the condition of the world for the better, and they have zealously endeavored to consummate the impossible achievement; but none will presume to say that the French people have been crippled and impeded in their progress by religious pre- judices. If we look to England, we find that her political and social in- stitutions differ very much in some important particulars from those of France, and yet the great mass of her people are also in ~xtreme distress. The laws of primogeniture and entail are in full operation, and according 1848.] Poverty and Misery vs. Reform and Progress. 29 to McCulloch, property in land is vested in about thirty thousand individ- uals. What a contrast to the position of France as stated above. But it is not to be supposed that these are the sole and only proprietors of the soil in England; there is, no doubt, an enormous amount of mortgages upon the land as well as in France, besides oth& r large burdens xvhic~h do not af- fect French landlords. In the year 1832, two years previous to the altera- tion of the British poor-law, the rate for the relief of paupers amounted to a sum equal to forty millions of dollars, which was chiefly raised from the land, in addition to rates for the prosecution and maintainance of criminals, repairing of roads, & c. Since the new poor-law was passed by the legis- lature, it is said that these taxes have somewhat decreased in amount; but that can only have taken place from the poor having been obliged to de- pend more entirely upon their own resources, or forcing them to adopt a coarser kind of food, as Lord Brougham declared was the intention of his enactment. In addition to the original causes of English distress, what- ever they may be, there are others both weighty and effective; such as the failure of the Irish crops and the mismanagement of the currency under these circumstances by the Bank of England. It would no doubt be a cu- rious speculation, if not a profitable one, to the l)olitical philosopher, to trace the causes of distress in these two countries, whose institutions and habits are in so many instances diametrically opposed to each other. What a theme for the national reformer, who talks so much about the evil effects of land monopoly. In one country the n~minal proprietorship of the soil re- sides in the hands of probably more than twenty millions of people; while in the other only about thirty thousand possess that advantage; and yet both populations are almost equally distressed. But there are other import- ant differences besides those already named. The currency of France un- til lately differed materially from that of England, being composed almost entirely of the precious metals, but is now more assimilated to that of Eng- land, and probably has, and will continue to have, a tendency to cause those fluctuations so injurious to all but the monied interest. But notwithstand- ing this alteration, the currency of France is still superior to that of Eng- land, and both differ from our own. But what do these dissimilarities prove ? Simply, that the distress in either case may not arise from any of these causes; but probably from some other circumstance, applicable to both, which we have not seen or considered. England as well as France has undergone many important political changes; but these have had the advantage of being extended over a longer period of time, and have been to some extent less violent. We cannot too much admire the rough but sterling qualities of our Saxon ancestors, which have raised their influence to its present height. But not to go too far back into their history, whicl might lead us into a disquisition upon the formation of national character, rather than an estimation of relative political progress, we will commence at the period just preceding time reform bill. At that time the British gov- ernment, though bearing to a certain extent a popular form, was entirely in the hands of the aristocracy; nearly one half of the members of the House of Commons being returned by the direct nomination of the nobles, under the fiction of representing boroughs, which had few or no inhabitants; and a great portion of the rest were directly or indirectly under the same in- fluence. The reform bill cut off a considerable part of this abuse, and ex- tended so far the power of the people. But notwithstanding this progress of popular power, the people have been nearly fifteen years in obtaining the removal of the corn-law; a law enacted for the purpose of increasing the rents of the aristocracy, and supposed to be extremely prejudicial to the commercial and manufacturing interests. If the general distress in I3rit~i VOL. XXITL~~NO. cxxi. 3 30 Poverty and Misery vs. Reform and Progress. [July, has arisen from this cause, it will now soon be removed, as that monopoly will cease in a few months, and England will commence a new commercial era. But it may be found, as in France, that the disease will not give way to a single course of treatment; it may require some moral medicine also; something may depend upon the individual conduct of the people themselves as well as upon the political institutions of the country. It is however a singular fact, that from whatever cause the misery and distress of the old world has arisen, it is plain that it is a general and obstinate dis- ease, and ofibrs a subject of deep interest to the political doctors of the age, especially those of our own country. How stands it with us? We have been considered almost uniformly prosperous, and have undergone no great political changes since the establishment of the government; but lately we have heard the cry of national reform, land monopoly, & c. And this cry is not entirely without foundation. Our large cities are rapidly filling up, and with a population the majority of whom are neither moral nor independent, and whose necessities we ought rather to assist, if only in self-defence. We may be quite certain that if they continue to flock into our maritime cities as they have hitherto done, the disease will spread and increase, and an increase(l provision for the poor will become necessary, and the value of landed estate, the profits of capital, and the wages of labor will decrease, if no other evils accrue. It is obvious, however,~that our posi- tion and relations are very different to those of other countries. We have sufficient land to sustain an increasing population for hundreds of years to come without inconvenience, providing that the poor of other countries are not thrown upon our shores in too large quantitics, and our natural increase is sufficiently moral and prudent to secure the mear~s of migration if necessary, before taking upon themselves the responsibility and care of a family; but if it be otherwise, we cannot hide from ourselves the fact, that ui time we must share the fate of olde~ countries; we cannot contravene the laws of nature. It is therefore important that politicians should ponder well upon these things. It ~ plain, that if an increasing population be cramped and confined in too small a space either by artificial or natural re- strictions, it will necessarily bring on those evils so prevalent in other coun- tries. It may b~ J2ought that these fears are somewhat overdrawn; but when we look at the increase of crime, immorality and pauperism in our large cities, and our prospect of a vastly increasing pauper emigration from the old world, we think the picture is riot too highly colored. 1848] Sicily. 31 SICILY. IN Lamartines admirably written report on the foreign policy of France, ,vhen describing the late revolutions in Europe, he says: Sicily rose against the domination of Naples. She first claimed her constitution. Irritated by refusal, she heroically reconquered her soil and her citadels. Tardy concessions no longer appeased her; she demanded a complete separationshe convoked her own Parliamentsh~proclairned herself mistress of her own des- tinies, and avenged her long subjection to the Bourbons, by declaring that the l)rinces of the House of Naples should be forever excluded from all possibility of succeeding to the constitutional throne of Sicily. And a celebrated English periodical,* in view of this event, suggests the expediency of the British government taking possession of this largest island in the Mediterranean, for the disinterested purpose of aiding its ignorant inhabitants in the maintainance of their political claims, with the, of course, incidental motive of checking the progress of French power in Northern Africato accomplish which enterprise it xviii, we are told, be un- necessary to recruit one additional drummer, or man a cock-boat the more. The contrast between the honest recognition of inalienable iights on the part of the republican patriot, and the cool spirit of appropriation and in- terference on that of the tory journalist, is at once striking and character- istic. It is needless to comment upon either; but the recent successful revolution in Sicily having excited general interest in the actual state and probable fate of that remarkable island, we propose to glance at its resour- ces and condition. Few portions of Europe have retained so many traces of their past his- tory. Nothing is more striking to the visitor than the, diversities between Italy and Sicily, o~ving to the comparative exemption of the latter from those influences, which, in modern times, have wrought such essential changes in the moral aspect of Southern Europe. The insular position of Sicily has tended to the continuance of its on 0inal peculiarities. The spirit of the age has but slightly modified its character. We can there trace the dis- tiuction of races, the origin of customs, and the effects of climate and in- stitutions, more satisfactorily than upon the opposite continent. The tide of emigration, in the present age, has been diverted from the island. Few travellers can afford the time necessary to explore its wonders, and the length of the quarantines deter many from landing. The English mer- chants scattered over the different cities, seldom weave permanent ties with the inhabitants, and political restrictions have, for many years, prevented the rest of the ~vorld from exercising an~ong them the legitimate influences of the press. From these and other causes, Sicily presents to a remarkable degree, normal features; and some portions are as far behind the times in respect to later civilization as was Italy in the days of Montaigne. Hence an interest attaches to the island superior to that inspired by the more ad- vanced localities of Europe. With far less comfort and elegance there is more variety; and if there is less to enjoy there is more to observe. The haunts of nature have been less invaded, and the elements of character less overlaid by conventionalities. Accordingly we can define, one by one, the landmarks of the various dynasties that successively ruled the island; we * Blackwocds Magazine.

1848] Sicily. 31 SICILY. IN Lamartines admirably written report on the foreign policy of France, ,vhen describing the late revolutions in Europe, he says: Sicily rose against the domination of Naples. She first claimed her constitution. Irritated by refusal, she heroically reconquered her soil and her citadels. Tardy concessions no longer appeased her; she demanded a complete separationshe convoked her own Parliamentsh~proclairned herself mistress of her own des- tinies, and avenged her long subjection to the Bourbons, by declaring that the l)rinces of the House of Naples should be forever excluded from all possibility of succeeding to the constitutional throne of Sicily. And a celebrated English periodical,* in view of this event, suggests the expediency of the British government taking possession of this largest island in the Mediterranean, for the disinterested purpose of aiding its ignorant inhabitants in the maintainance of their political claims, with the, of course, incidental motive of checking the progress of French power in Northern Africato accomplish which enterprise it xviii, we are told, be un- necessary to recruit one additional drummer, or man a cock-boat the more. The contrast between the honest recognition of inalienable iights on the part of the republican patriot, and the cool spirit of appropriation and in- terference on that of the tory journalist, is at once striking and character- istic. It is needless to comment upon either; but the recent successful revolution in Sicily having excited general interest in the actual state and probable fate of that remarkable island, we propose to glance at its resour- ces and condition. Few portions of Europe have retained so many traces of their past his- tory. Nothing is more striking to the visitor than the, diversities between Italy and Sicily, o~ving to the comparative exemption of the latter from those influences, which, in modern times, have wrought such essential changes in the moral aspect of Southern Europe. The insular position of Sicily has tended to the continuance of its on 0inal peculiarities. The spirit of the age has but slightly modified its character. We can there trace the dis- tiuction of races, the origin of customs, and the effects of climate and in- stitutions, more satisfactorily than upon the opposite continent. The tide of emigration, in the present age, has been diverted from the island. Few travellers can afford the time necessary to explore its wonders, and the length of the quarantines deter many from landing. The English mer- chants scattered over the different cities, seldom weave permanent ties with the inhabitants, and political restrictions have, for many years, prevented the rest of the ~vorld from exercising an~ong them the legitimate influences of the press. From these and other causes, Sicily presents to a remarkable degree, normal features; and some portions are as far behind the times in respect to later civilization as was Italy in the days of Montaigne. Hence an interest attaches to the island superior to that inspired by the more ad- vanced localities of Europe. With far less comfort and elegance there is more variety; and if there is less to enjoy there is more to observe. The haunts of nature have been less invaded, and the elements of character less overlaid by conventionalities. Accordingly we can define, one by one, the landmarks of the various dynasties that successively ruled the island; we * Blackwocds Magazine. 32 Sicily. [July5 can detect the signs of a mingled ancestry in the existent population; and fol- low undisturbed the footsteps of antiquity, through verdant labyrinths or barren tracts, without constantly feeling her charms dispelled by modern innovation. The only signs of exhaustion are to be found in the degrada- tion of the masses the consequence of gross tyranny. In regard to native resources, both of soil and character, Sicily is as rich as in her palmiest days. At Rome, we can trace the emblems of polytheism, but they are more striking in this comparatively isolated region. Heathen deity and Catholic saint there grotesquely present their claims; a sarcophagus is used as a drinking trough; Venus and Mary respectively dispute the authenticity of a broken statue; the loves of Acis and Galatea are recounted by the same peasant who rehearses the miracles of a local divinity enshrined in the latest edition of the calendar; washerwornen tramp with bare legs in the very stream which tradition assigns as the outlet of the Aipheus; and the evening breeze, laden with the thyme odors of Hymetus, bears also the echoes of the vesper-bell. We perceive this intact condition in the domi- nant influence of Catholicism. The Frei~ch revolution, which so rnateri.- ally affected her agency in the rest of Europe, scarcely touched the supre- macy of the church in Sicily. Not less than three hundred thousand per- sons yet live there on ecclesiastical revenues, and one hundred and seven- teen convents exist on the island. We may ascribe the unity and vigor of the recent popular movement to the fact that Pio nono was the watchword of the people. The sea-girded isle retained a more complete allegiance, from habit and association, to the very name of a pontiff, than countries more exposed to th~ liberal views of the present century, could possibly secure. Napoleons influence was there stayed by like causes. His career made comparatively no signal impress; and the navy of Englamid was a barrier which effectually protected the insular realm from the encroachments of his conquering steps. Palermo has been justly named the city of churches. Messina was long time central halting-place of crusader and pilgrim. The Norman leaders dedicated their first spoils to erecting magnificent tem- ples of religion, and the princes of Aragon, who subsequently became mas- ters of the soil, were actuated by a kindred spirit. The modern capital of the island became the nucleus for princely benefactions, and the traveller now beholds in edifices, mosaics, sculptures, paintings, frescoes and rich sacerdotal vestments, the tributes of Christian knighthood. The brave and pious warriors rejoiced to lay their trophies as an offering both of expiation and worship, at the altars of Sicilian churches; and we can yet reco, nise devotion to the Roman hierarchy in the splendid ornaments lavished upon the Catholic temples of the land. The crosses which surmqunt the few towers still remaining of Moorish architecture, still proclaim the flush of grateful conquest. Even the Reformation failed to penetrate the destiny of this island. It is inscribed not only with time hieroglyphics of antiquity, but redolent with the lingering atmosphere of the palmy days of Catholic sway, as the incense from her censers floats cloud-like amid the architraves and friezes of her beautiful temples, dispersed by no gale of political emithu- smasm or mental reaction. Emblematic of the taste of a distant era, incon- gr uous from the mixture of heathen and Christiaii symbols, and boasting chiefly the tokens of primitive art ,these gorgeous structures affect the ima- gmnation as at once eloquent of conquest and faith; wedded to the past, they stand in effective contrast to the vivid changes which have either wholly subdued or essentially modified the aspect of other countries. Memorable classical fables endear the island to scholars. It is associated with the Sirens and the Cyclops. Scylla and Charybdisdenuded of the horrors ascribed to them by olden poetslure the eyes of the curious voya 1848.] Sicily. 33 ger as he enters the Faro; the meadow where Proserpine was gathering flowersherself a fairer flower ; the harvest of fields especially beloved of Ceres; and the traditionary fount of Arethusa, stir the memory and touch the imagination, however inharmonious may be their present aspect, in comparison with the ideal reminiscences their very names excite. But more satisfactory relics of the past are encountered in the fragmen- tary temples on the sites of Agrigentum and Segesta, Taormina and Selinuntium. Their majestic and harmonious proportions are, in some instances, wholly discernible. Unlike similar remains on the continent, with the exception of those at P~stum, these noble ruins occupy lofty po- sitions in view of extensive and fertile scenery, which greatly enhances their impressiveness and relative beauty. Under favorable combinations of season and weather, no memorials of antiquity are better fitted to inspire either poet or artist. We were confirmed in this opinion by the lamented Cole, whose Sicilian landscapes are as beautifhl as they are authentic. One or two structures, also, serve as monuments of the Saracenic rule, while buildings fortified during the middle ages, are scattered thickly along the coast. Thus the fanes of Pagan, Moslem and Christian eras unite to attest the varied occupancy of that prolific soil, and remind the visitor of the mingled elements of blood and creeds ~vhich have formed the character and destiny of the race around him. The Sicilian character offers, indeed, a problem as intricate as its varied origin. The most amiable hospitality, worthy of the most refined epochs an(l people, co-exists with a latent vindictiveness, unsurpassed among the most ferocious barbarians. A degree of ignorance ~n regard to the famihi~ r truths of science and history, such as would provoke the smile of an Eng- lish or American child, is found united with a quickness of apprehension and grace of fancy, that in other climes would be deemed prophetic of genius. The keen intelli~ence of the Greek, the sensitive pride of the Spaniard, the vivacious manners of the French, and the fervor of Italian passion, alternately baffle the sympathetic observer, who strives to define and characterise Sicilian life. In die gay saloons of Palermo, surrounded by the trophies of existent civilization, one not urifrequentlv hears a tale ef private vengeance recently enacted in the neighborhood, the details of which essentially belong to feudal times. Questions of the day are often treated in the spirit of the sixteenth century; and sometimes an almost childlike simplicity of language, manners and reasonin g, iecall the pictures of Arcady. Ingenuousness and duplicity, native talent and gross igno- rance, gentle, loving manners, and pitiless animosity, soft voices and fiery eyes, eloquence and brutality, love and hate, the romantic and the vulgar, continually intimate that the nature of the people, like that of the soil, is volcanicrich in material of all kinds, and capable of becoming the fertile source of all that is lovely and~useful; ~et liable, also, to fearful outbreaks and pernicious and destructive results. There is obviously more consistency, vigor and heroism in the Sicilian character than in that of their opposite neighbors. This has been amply evinced in every revolution. It is curious that in each war a heroine has appeared. The Sicilian women partake of the Amazonian spirit. At the famous siege of Messina. they fought on the ramparts. In the struggle with Charles of Anjou, Macalda, wife of Alaimo, captain of the people, made herself a terrible name by her sanguinary and equestrian prowess; and a large body of the Palerroitans were led, during the then late revolt, by a kind of Sicilian Joan dArc. Indeed, many of the sex were seen brandishing weapons, or rejoicing in victory; and noble ladies tended the wounded, and encouraged, by their presence and voices, the onset of the populace. 34 Sicily. [July When Sicily has experienced the mental impetus and culture derivable from liberal institutions and popular education, the patriotic historian will find it a delightful and philosophic task to write her annals. There are at- tractive incidents in the rule of the Normans, particularly those which re- late to the good king Robert, as he is called; and no more dramatic chap- ter occurs in modern warfare than that afforded by the tragic scenes of the Si- cilian vespers. The household story of l)amon and Pythias; the tyrannic career of Dionysius; the facts illustrating the advent of Christianity in that part of the world ; the traditions of A~tna, and the many remarkable anec- dotes connected with the persecutions of the Neapolitan kings, and the spirited resistance of the islanders, will furnish themes of no ordinary interest. How far the ancient chroniclers may be relied on for statistical informa- tion, it is very difficult to say; hut their accounts of the populous condition of the island and the state of the arts, are certainly somewhat justified by the extensive remains and natural productions of Sicily. A region over which Timoleon reigned; where Plato and Paul taught; where the greatest of ancient mechanicians ran from his bath with the cry of Eureka ! and the inventor of pastoral verse sang, must ever possess a charm for the votaries of philosophy and taste, of truth and idealism. Musical genius, too, has a hallowed association with Sicily in the memory of l3ellini. The name of Archimedes is identified with Syracuse, and the fate of Ca- tania is interwoven with the different eruptions of the extraordinary moun- tain, whose snow-capt summit towers like an eternal beacon to the man- ners eye. it was long a drawback to the prosperity of the latter city that she lacked a commodious harbora want supplied by the rushing lava, which, after reaching the bay, hardened around the shore, as if guided by the hand of art. The extraordinary decadence of the ancient cities, and the growth and improvement of the modern, are subjects fruitful of specu- lation; while the fables of the classic era, the events of the Spanish and French invasion, and the more recent fruits of English possession, suggest material both for description and analysis. The modern cities placed at the two extremities of the island, are not outni- valled in locality by any of the European capitals. Messina, the commercial, is built within a fine undulating range of niountains, immediately upon the sea. The dwarfed line of palaces fronting the water, bearsmnelancholy evidence of the ravages of the earthquakes which have laid the city in ruins; but from the balconies of those dwellings, it is delightful, while inhaling the sea-breeze, on fine sumrnem evenings, to watch the variegated hues that play on the opposite hills of Calaliria, or the fitful gleam of the fishermens torches reflected by the ripples of the Mediterranean, gurgling through the narrow channel which separates, at this point, the island from the main; once, it is believed, there united. The regular plan, noble gateways, and delicious suburbs of Palermo, called the kingly, from having been the gov- ernment residence, render it worthy of being the metropolis of Sicily. Less visited and renowned than Naples, it boasts many of the attractions of that fascinating capital: the same mild, voluptuous spring-days; the same evergreen-foliage, briny gale, and thronged streets; the same fruits, and ices, and chimes; the same fbndness for afternoon rides and musical soire6s and dolce far niente among the nobility; and the same witty, unclean, and life-enjoying populace. As representatives of commercial or manufactur- ing towns, we have such places, on the coast, as Marsala and Trapani, the one celebrated for its wine, and the other for its salt-works and fisheries; while, in the interior, are walled villages, presenting a very picturesque as- pect at a distance, but filled with the most wretched specimens of humanity, 1848.] & cii!,. 35 who seem to combine the filth and poverty of Erin with the half-savage wildness of our border Indians, and almost mob the traveller, as they cluster, with haggard features and pleading outcries, about his tired mule, unawed by the threats of the guide. Perhaps Theocritus was inspired by the landscape of Sicily, to describe the charms of pastoral life, on account of the refreshing contrast between the sterility of the mountains and the fertile beauty of the valleys; for it is seldom that the traveller experiences a more pleasing transition than that from the sandy tracks of the coast of this island, the stunted furze of a reach of moorland, or the rocky channel of a torrent, and one of the 1)road teeming vales that suddenly burst upon the eye, with every shade of green, from the grey tint of the olive to the vivid hue of newly-sprung grain. The change instantly awakens Arcadian dreams, and fills the itnagination with those rural im( ges which bards of all time have consecrated. Nature is not only bountiful to Sicily, but seems to indulge there in a kind of luxurious caprice; so that the natural- 1st, as well as the poet, enjoys a rare and varied feast. Wild flowers so numerous that the most assiduous botanist of the island has not yet comple- ted their nomenclature, deck with the richest colors, hill-side and glen. In the dry beds of mountain streams is found the purest amber. Papyrus grows on the banks of the Anapus. Over the Straits of Messina, after the sunset of mid-summer, there sometimes hover the most singular forms, some quiescent, and others moving with the greatest rapidity. This occurs after both sea and air have subsided from extreme agitation to entire repose; and this kind of mirage is one of the most curious of ~erial phenomena, enchant- ing the fanciful, while it baffles the scientific. On some of the mineral springs floats a remarkably sanative oil ; and an odoriferous salt, at some points of the beach, fills the air for miles with exhilarating l)erfLime. The strata of the hills is composed of the richest and most variegated marble. The honey of ilybla has the delicate zest of embalmed flowers. Tortoises bask on the sunny tide; porcupines bristle in the thickets; grey oxen, with enormous horns, drag home the vintage on rude cars; in the Faro, congre- gate every specious of fish, from the delicious spar/a to the relishing sar- dine. Agate and lava from the soil, of every conceivable tint, are wrought into ornaments. Small grey donkeys wind down the rough path from Gir- genti to the sea, with two large cakes of sulphur, fresh from the inexhaustible mines, rudely swung over their backs ; and groups of swarthy fisherman, at Trapani, land millions of tunny-fish in their capacious nets. The green fly, exported under the name of cantharides, and the most productive Lsilk- worms, feed on the leafy trees. Orange and lemon groves dust er about the villas; enormous aloes and indian-figs line the road-side; vines dangle over treliss and ~vall ; and woods of cork alternate with tracts of yelloxv broom, such as Shakspeare says The dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-loin. The neighborhood of the sea, the presence of volcanic agencies, the extremes of heat and cold, the excessive rains of winter an~ droughts of summerthe intense sirocco and copious freshets, occasion remarkable at- mospheric vicissitudes and electric phenomena. The climate of Sicily is as rich in variety as its soil in products and its inhabitants in character. There are days of early spring positively overwhelming by their splendor. Life palpitates as if germinating anew. A world of pleasurable sensations, for the moment, renders mere existence a felicity. In the rainy season, on the contrary, the animal spirits are repressed to an even mood and while the su-occo prevails, utter languora kind of conscious death, prostrates the 36 Sicily. [July, frame. Meteorology can be studied to great advantage on such an island; and perhaps there is no better site for an observatory in the world than 2Etna. It has been noticed that the alternations of the barometer are greater and more rapid here than in many places of the same latitude; and electricity is more rapidly developed. The thunder-storms of Sicily often equal in grandeur those of the tropics. The variety and humid warmth of the air, or the abundance of electric fluid, certainly have a marked effect up on the health of invalids. Judicious observation could discover a genial residence for almost every species of valetudinarian, in some part of the island. The functions of nature are more easily carried on than in more northern regions; and there is an obvious difference in this respect, even between Sicily and the continent. Not only do peasants bring forth in safety, but the most fashionable ladies of Palermo are themselves again in a space of time almost incredibly brief. But the productiveness of Sicily finds its best exponent in ZEtna. From the snows which crown the summit, the essential summer luxury both of this island and Maltato the repeated crops of grain that wave at its base, this extraordinary mountain supplies all intermediate necessitiesall the drugs and the dainties for human need. On its volcanic sides, formed of the decomposed lava of centuries, the grape yields its rarest juices. Rice,. cane, hemp, and the fruits of the south, there flourish luxuriantly. Higher up, beneath more recent lava, mercury, nitre, alum and vitriol abound. Thus the chestnut-woods of ZEtna afford game and fuel, the springs heat- ing waters, the soil pavement for cities, medicaments for the infirm, spices to warm, snow to cool, flax for the loom and wine for the banquet; wh~ie the rosy hues that gather at evening around the cone, the fitful blaze that streams upward from its depths against the midnight sky, and the simple grandeur of the mountain itselg with the thought of its destructive emiergies, its fertile bountythe beautiful and terrible associations of its name, render zEtna one of the exhaustless wonders of the universe. At Nicolosi, the last village you leave on ascending the mountain, dwells Dr. Gemmelaro, the modern Empedocles or philosopher of iEtna, who, for many years, has sedulously observed its phenomena, recorded its eruptions, gathered specimens from its splintered sides, and watched ts wayward ope- rations with a min,,led feeling of curiosity and affection. Revered by the peasants for his learning, and gratefully remembered by travellers for his urbanity, the worthy doctor recounts the feats and speculates on the possible destinies of iEtna, in the spirit of a Morikbarns amid Sir Humphrey Davy combined. Indeed, his real love of science becomes amusing in connec- tion with so decided a virtuoso disposition. His recluse life is consoled by this perpetual vigil. He actually seems to feel a kind of responsibility on behalf of the ancient volcano; to him it is a niagnificerit hobby He re- gisters the names of all visitors, and has a list of those, who, for many years past, have ascended to the crater. We were astonished to find how distinctly he remembered the few Americans enrolled in his album. An hours gossip with Gemmelaro is a significant part of the excursion. He will show rare crystals or exquisitely colored pumice gleaned in his walks, poimat out on a map the topo~raphy of ~Etna, give the dates and particulars of each eruption, tradmtmons, anecdotes and travellers tales; and wind up with sage advice as to the best course to pursue in the arduous undertaking before you; so that, if your object be to see the sun rise from that lofty height, you bo forth from the old mans cottage, beneath the stars, arid wind amid the huge masses of black lava, through skeletons of trees, over crackling fragmentson and on, seeing always before you the broad, white cone, and ever and anon, a sudden flash that glitters on the snow and lights up the ebon sea around ;your mind all the while revolving the wonderful fables, and more wonderful facts, l~48.j ~Tke Independence of the Judiciary. which make ~tna so prolific a theme to the scholar, naturalist and poet. But this picturesque and exuberant nature is often wholly disenchanted by the squalid and debased condition of humanity. It seems as if the law were immutable which decrees that necessity and opposition alone shall achieve the triumphs of civilization. The signification of confort is almost as unknown in the life of the luxuriant and beautiful south, as is the word to the dulcet vocabulary of the people. After a days lonely wayfaring in a jolting lettiga, or on a hard mule, the traveller finds himself in a small room, whose brick floor and stone walls are stained with dirt, and the atmosphere redolent ofgarli~ and smoke, lie sits down half-famished to a frugal supper of baked kid or rabbit, broiled olives, salad of wild-asparagus, roasted chestnuts and thin ~vine, and retires, overcome with fatigue, to be tormented until day-break by mil- lions of industrious fleas. Yet the first breath of the pure morning air, wafted from sea or mountain, revives his fevered pulses; and a scene of verdure or wildnessthe dewy flax-bosoms, like little tearful blue eyes; the thatched encampment of cheese-makers or carbonari, with its curling vapor and wild- dogs; or a flock of goats, with their shepherd, studding a wide ran~e of barren country, beguile him to pleasing reverie. There is a singular melancholy in a pilgnitr~age like this. Beauty and anguish, fruitfulness and privation, are constantly seen in such intimate contact, that personal discomfort is often forgotten in reflection and sympathy. But a few years ago, when our fleet in the Mediterranean, in search of more desirable winter anchorage than Mahon, sojourned in the excellent harbor of Syracuse, a deputation of patriots waited upon the American commodore, and offered to deliver Sicily to his country, if he would cruise between the island and the main, after they had expelled the Neapolitan troops. The strict neutrality which, since the days of Washington, and with his judicious sanction, has marked our foreign policy, forbade entertaining the proposi- tion; but a philanthropic imagination might easily conjure up a delightful picture from the bare idea of such an annexation, as he fancies how richly the dormant resource? of nature and the perverted capacities of man would awaken, in that fertile region, under a free, intelligent, and enterprising go- vernment. TILE INDEPENDENCE OF TIlE JIJDICIAIIY.* THE framers of our Constitution, with a prudent regard for the interesh, of posterity, wisely ordained the independence of the judiciary. They deemed it essential to the permanency of the government, and the equal dispensation of justice. To prevent intrigue and venality in the election of judges, their appointment was vested in the President, subject to the confir- mation of the Senate. That they might be uninfluenced by popular Opinion, but decide between man and man in accordance with the unbiassed convic- tions of judgment, dishonesty was made the ordy sufficient cause of their removal. Fromthis system no injurious consequences have resulted; and under its operation, with few exceptions, which are incident to every human * This commonication, from an able source, is not in strict accordance with the views enter- tained hy the Review upon the subject, as is well knoA n to our readers; bet as we are hy no means opposed to discussion upon any subject in whicb the general good is involved, we give it a place We may state briefly that our correspondent falls into ti common error of confounding indepeudence with irresponsibility~an error arising from English habits. Under a monarchy, it was necessary that jedges should be independent of the crown, the appointing power. It doesnot, therefore, follow that in~a republic, where there is no dangerous executive, that J~e judges should he irresponsible to the people.

l~48.j ~Tke Independence of the Judiciary. which make ~tna so prolific a theme to the scholar, naturalist and poet. But this picturesque and exuberant nature is often wholly disenchanted by the squalid and debased condition of humanity. It seems as if the law were immutable which decrees that necessity and opposition alone shall achieve the triumphs of civilization. The signification of confort is almost as unknown in the life of the luxuriant and beautiful south, as is the word to the dulcet vocabulary of the people. After a days lonely wayfaring in a jolting lettiga, or on a hard mule, the traveller finds himself in a small room, whose brick floor and stone walls are stained with dirt, and the atmosphere redolent ofgarli~ and smoke, lie sits down half-famished to a frugal supper of baked kid or rabbit, broiled olives, salad of wild-asparagus, roasted chestnuts and thin ~vine, and retires, overcome with fatigue, to be tormented until day-break by mil- lions of industrious fleas. Yet the first breath of the pure morning air, wafted from sea or mountain, revives his fevered pulses; and a scene of verdure or wildnessthe dewy flax-bosoms, like little tearful blue eyes; the thatched encampment of cheese-makers or carbonari, with its curling vapor and wild- dogs; or a flock of goats, with their shepherd, studding a wide ran~e of barren country, beguile him to pleasing reverie. There is a singular melancholy in a pilgnitr~age like this. Beauty and anguish, fruitfulness and privation, are constantly seen in such intimate contact, that personal discomfort is often forgotten in reflection and sympathy. But a few years ago, when our fleet in the Mediterranean, in search of more desirable winter anchorage than Mahon, sojourned in the excellent harbor of Syracuse, a deputation of patriots waited upon the American commodore, and offered to deliver Sicily to his country, if he would cruise between the island and the main, after they had expelled the Neapolitan troops. The strict neutrality which, since the days of Washington, and with his judicious sanction, has marked our foreign policy, forbade entertaining the proposi- tion; but a philanthropic imagination might easily conjure up a delightful picture from the bare idea of such an annexation, as he fancies how richly the dormant resource? of nature and the perverted capacities of man would awaken, in that fertile region, under a free, intelligent, and enterprising go- vernment. TILE INDEPENDENCE OF TIlE JIJDICIAIIY.* THE framers of our Constitution, with a prudent regard for the interesh, of posterity, wisely ordained the independence of the judiciary. They deemed it essential to the permanency of the government, and the equal dispensation of justice. To prevent intrigue and venality in the election of judges, their appointment was vested in the President, subject to the confir- mation of the Senate. That they might be uninfluenced by popular Opinion, but decide between man and man in accordance with the unbiassed convic- tions of judgment, dishonesty was made the ordy sufficient cause of their removal. Fromthis system no injurious consequences have resulted; and under its operation, with few exceptions, which are incident to every human * This commonication, from an able source, is not in strict accordance with the views enter- tained hy the Review upon the subject, as is well knoA n to our readers; bet as we are hy no means opposed to discussion upon any subject in whicb the general good is involved, we give it a place We may state briefly that our correspondent falls into ti common error of confounding indepeudence with irresponsibility~an error arising from English habits. Under a monarchy, it was necessary that jedges should be independent of the crown, the appointing power. It doesnot, therefore, follow that in~a republic, where there is no dangerous executive, that J~e judges should he irresponsible to the people. ~3S The Independence of the Judiciary. [July, system, and not specially chargeable upon this, civil liberty and the rights of property have been sacredly guarded. The citizen, persecuted by pri- vate malice, and piejudged by public opinion, has sought and found re- fuge within the sanctuary of law, where the impartial judge has defined its precepts and instructed juries in their application. The American bench will gain honor by a comparison with that of any nation, whether of ancient or of modern times. Its spotless purity is conspicuous even in our own country, and the integrity of ajudge has passed into a pro- verb. For a few years a disposition for change, both as it regards his tenure of office and mode of election, has been manifested in a portion of the community. It has been advocated in some of the popular journals and periodicals, and introduced into the constitutions of some of the re- cently organized states, and into those of some of the older states ~vhich have been recently revised. To estimate the results of this change is impossible. That it would be both impracticable and dangerous if in- troduced into other nations, none will deny; and it may reasonably be doubted whether society has arrived in the United States to that degree of perfection which will admit of it. A great statesman has well said, Change is not Reform; and he might with equal truth have added, that when any institution of government confers manifest benefits upon tile community over which it extends, and no evils of importance result from it, it is dangerous to alter materially its organization. This prin- ciple is easily susceptible of broader application, and should be practically observed in every social as well as political action. it is a general law of nature, that the same labor cannot be performed in two different ways with equal excellence and despatch. When any change is proposed in a system, it is incumbmt on its advocate to prove, not only that us now constituted there are evils resulting from the system, but that they will be remedied by the change. If it has no evils, no change is required, and may be injurious. If it has evils, and the change will not remedy them, it will be more likely to increase than diminish them. T he advo- cate of a judiciary, elected by the people, and of a limited tenure, must prove, not only that as now constituted it is faulty or extremely liable to abuses, but that the change which lie proposes would remedy them. Have these propositions been pioved? The judge is and should be set apart as the consecrated minister of justice, to whom the innocent may fly for remuneration for J)ast, and piotection from future injury. When a case is brought before him, he must not ask what does the community think of its merits, but what is the right in it; and that ascertained, he must decide accordingly. He is accountable to the people in one respect, and in one only; he is ac- ountable to them for a faithful and honest discharge of his duties. However the legislator may be bound to pass laws in obedience to the expressed will of his constituents, iio such obligation rests upon the judge. By no means is he bound to interpret laws in obedience to pop- ular opinion. He must interpret them as his own honest and unbiased judgment shall direct. The moment any other influence operates upon him, that moment he ceases to be the uniform guardian of personal rights, and becomes a ready instrument of oppression and misrule. While the accountability of rulers to the people is made a fundamental article of our political faith, let us not trespass upon the sanctuary of justice. The independence of the judiciary was regarded as the great bulwark of personal liberty by the fathers of our republic. A collection of their opinions upon this question would be highly instructive, but would trans- cend the limits of this article. Let one suffice. In a letter to the Justices ~f the Supreme Court, President Washington thus writes: 1848.1 The Independence of the Judiciar~ Gentlemen: I have always been persuaded that the stability and s ceess of ti e national government, and consequently the happiness of the people of the United States, would depend in a considerable degree on the interpretation of its laws. In my opinion, therefore, it is important that the judiciary system should not only be independent in its operation, but as perfect as possible in its formation. By some the judiciary is regarded as a monarchical feature in our con- stitution, but with a moments reflection this opinion must vanish. Like every other political institution in a republican government, it is founded upon the will of the people. They elect the officers of the government, to whom they delegate the power of appointing judges, upon the same 1)rirlciple that they delegate to them arty other power. That they had the right to confide this power to their representatives, none will deny; that their confidence in this respect has been abused, few will maintain. Al- though the present mode of their appointment is not perhaps necessary in order to secure their independence, yet there are reasons why it is preferable to the popular mode. In the first place, the latter would he impracticable. No reasons can be given why the judicial~ any more than the minor executive officers, should Ite elected in this manner. In a republic as extensive as ours, the mini- fications of the executive power must be so numerous, that were all the of- ficers elective, the citizens could do little else than frequent the polls. This will always be an abundant reason why the president should be a states mati of tried integrity and acute discrimination in judging of per- sonal qualificatiotis. Such a character an Atnerican president is presumed to have. His nominations are subject to the ratification of the Senate, ~vhich the past history of the country shows has not been averse to exer- cising its power of rejection. If the time should ever come when these two departments of the government, filled by individuals elected at short intervals, shall becotne corrupt, and therefore unfit to be the de- positories of this patronage, it will be a time when neither constitutions aud laws will be of little value in promoting the virtue and preserving the good order of society. Nor need any danger be apprehended that the executive and legislature will become leagued with the judiciary, if the election of the latter is vested in the former. If the judges were ap- 1ioiiited for life, they would immediately become independent upon their appointment. As the coincidence would rarely occur when there would be a vacaticy on the bench, and when the executive and legislature would have a favorite project of doubtful constitutionality in view, for effecting which it would be necessary for them to obtain the co-operation of the judiciary, arid as the term of office prescribed to the former is limited, they would have a much stronger motive for appointing efficient than imbecile judges. If it is objected against this mode of election, that ~vnile it is practised the cabinet and the legislative hall may be treasuries from which intrigue and corruption can obtain ample rewards, it is replied, that the same reason might be urged against it in any case, and against the popular mode with additional force, since it must be presumed that the people will elect for their rulers their most virtuous and intelligent mcii. All experience has shown that intrigue and corruption will be more successful amongst a large than a small number of persons. If it be urged against this mode, that while it exists honest and capable judges cannot he selected, because generally but very few members of the legis- lature will be personally acquainted with the qualifications of the judge, the same may be more strongly urged against a popular mode, since its members (still presuming them to be the most virtuous and intelligent por- tion of the community) will have a more extensive acquaintance than 40 The Independence of the Judiciary. [July, proportionate rnrrnber of citizens in general. A small number of men are setter qualified to appoint an officer, of whom one-half are acquainted with his qualifications, than a much larger number, in which the propor- tion of those acquainted with him is much smaller. Another reason against the popular mode i5 this :A judge in the dis- charge of his duties, will often he obliged to make unpopular decisions. It needs a man of constitutional firmness and independence, and perhaps even of Catonian severity, to decide at all times between man and man, without partiality. For this purpose it needs one whom, Non civium ardor prava jubentiom Non vultus instantis tyrauni Mente qoatit solida. It is easy to see that such a man will often find little favor with a dominant taction whose designs he has thwarted. Innocence, though at last vindicated, may for a time be compelled by a prejudiced community to wear the garb of criminality. If the popular passions were highly inflamed, the judge who protected it, when malice and ignorance attacked it, would be a fieeble candidate, before the justice of his decision was confirmed. Before pro- ceeding to consider the tenure by which jud,es should hold their offices, it will be proper to notice an objection which is urged a~ainst their indepen- dence. Although it is admitted by some that, in England, their indepen- dence is necessary for the maintenance of personal liberty, yet, they contend, that it is not necessary here. Lu England, say they, the judges are made independent in order to resist the encroachments of the royal prerogative; but as there is no such power here, therefore, the independence of the judi- ciary is unnecessary. The premise is imperfect, hut if perfect, the conclu- sion does not follow from it. He must be a sciolist in history ~vho has not learned that there are encroachments to be resisted in a republic. If he were not, he would have learned that the people are liable for the time to be deceived by selfish partisans, and betrayed into excesses by their passion- ate appeals. Jn a letter to Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison thus writes Wherever the real power in a government lies, there is the danger of op- pression. In our government the real power lies in the majority of the community, and the invasion of private rights is chiefly to be apprehended, not from acts of ~overnment, contrary to the sense of its constituents, but from acts in which the government is the mere instrument of the major number of the constituents. Hence the necessity of constitutional balances and of a representative system in a republic, without which order cannot be maintained in it. It was by the balanced powers of its different depart- ments that the Roman constitution existed so long. Though often incon- sistent with each, they each served to prevent the other from gaining a dangerous extension. When the balance was lost and the various powers were centered in one individual, the mighty fabric fell. This neutraliz~ tion of power should be carefully maintained in a free state. Representative government was not instituted in this country solely because of its extent of territory. The experiment had been often tried, and as often failed, of a republic whose laws were passed in a popular assembly. Like all other power delegated to private or public agents, it is referable for its origin to two principles; first, that social wealth is increased by a division of employ- ments; and secotid, that labor can be better and more expeditiously per- fornied by those best qualified by natural ability and experience to perform it. It is this latter principle which renders it superior in practice and in theory to any other form ever devised by man; yet such is its siniplicity, that ~t is not strange it was suggested to the American colonists upon their first 184S.J The Independence of the Judiciary. 41 settlement in this country, and that it was continued by the framers of the constitution. They were well aware that in a republic there must be some conservatism, even besides virtue and intelligence, in order to baffle the efforts of designing men, and that conservatism they decided to be a repre- sentative system of government. Experience has confirmed the wisdom of their decision. if France had no large cities, and could be at once provi- ded with this system, we might entertain sanguine hopes that the experi- ment of self-government might succeed in that country, on whose soil so much blood has been shed in the cause of liberty. A large majority in a republic is more powerful than a king in a limited monarchy. In England, the crown cannot alone oppress the people. if it would oppress at all, it must draw to its aid some class of the people, and it might, by such an alliance, be enabled to oppress the other classes. The English people have passed through the fiery furnace of regal oppression, and so many firm principles of liberty have been engrafted on the constitu- tion hy several revolutions, and the barriers against the usurpations of the kings prerogative have become so strong, that without the co-cperation of tho other branches of the governmcnt, the people have little danger to appre- hend from its arbitrary exercise. In a republic the majority passes the laws, and may, if disposed, grievously oppress the minority. The minority may, in a few days, become the majority, and the oppression may reach upon those who recently inflicted it. When matters come to violence, the supe- riority of a majority in a republic over a king in a monarchy is more striking. The king in arms can offer but feeble opposition to the physical force of a united people; but in a republic the majority will generally have the resources which will give it power to subdue the minority. hence, the necessity of a written constitution, which may bridle the wills of tem- porary majorities, and protect minorities from their tyranny. The judiciary is to deeide upon the violations of this constitution, and their independence should be strongly secured, so that they shall not be amenable to majorities, and be entirely uninfluenced by their demands. He who, in declamatory appeals to the people, urges that no such crisis can possibly occur when the majority shall be induced by unprincipled demagogues to overstep its legal limits, is himself a demagogue and a selfish flatterer, and ought never to be elevated to an office which was instituted to guard the rights and promote the interests of every individual. As a general principle, it is true, that the people have no more right to violate their constitution than their rulers. if the constitution is faulty, it must be altered in a legal mariner. Excep- tions to this rule may sometimes occur. A convention for formincr a con- stitution, might append to it the article of Median and Persian law, that it should be unalterable. Such cases will, however, rarely occur. The judiciary was not made independent in England for the sole purpose of restraining the exercise of the royal prerogative within its proper limits. Until the reign of William, the commissions of the judges were held durante bene placito, but they were then appointed to hold their offices quam diu 4ene se gesserint, with the proviso that the term should expire at the death of the king, and that they could be removed by him on the address of the two Houses of Parliament. In the reign of George III., at his recom- mendation, it was enacted that the judges should hold their offices for life, unless guilty of mal-administration. it is evideiit, that by this act Parlia- nient surrendered a power, not in order to make the judges independent of the king, because he could remove them previously only at its request, but in order that they should be independent for the future of Parliamentary influence. It is also evident that the Parliament did not priss this act in subserviency to the king, but with a desire to preserve the purity of justice. 42 The Independnce of the Judciary. [July, But the judges were corrupted not only by the crown, but by parties and opulent nobles, as the records of English jurisprudence clearly show. There is one reason for an independent judiciary in this country, which does not exist in England. There, no constitution binds the Parliament, but it is supreme. It is the highest tribunal in the kingdom ; and its acts cannot be pronounced unconstitutional, or otherwise annulled. IJere, the delegated power of the people is limited by a constitution, which they have established. The judges are appointed to interpret that constitution, and nullify those acts of the legislature which contravene its letter or spirit. hence they should be independent of it, and of those whom it represents. History everywhere proclaims the truth, that an independent judiciary is as necessary in a republic as in a monarchy. It relates the murder of sages by deluded republics, and of devoted patriots by arbitrary monarchs. An independent judiciary, supported by the laws, might have protected Socrates from the madness of the Athenian populace, and Algernon Sidney from the sanguinary despotism of a Stuart. While the judiciary is of great importance in preserving a just balance in our government, there is little danger of its disturbing it by a forcible extension of its powers. Much greater danger is to be apprehended from the usurpations of the executive or legislature. The latter enacts the laws and commands the revenues of the state; the former confers emoluments and executes the laws. Both of these are active in the exercise of their powers, while the judiciary is the passive expositor of the constitution and laws, and unless the other branches obey and carry its decisions into effect, it has an ideal rather than a real existence. It can forcibly restrain neither the executive nor the legislature, but may be forcibly restrained by them. The executive may refuse to execute the laws as it has expounded them, and the legislature may repeal or amend the laws, if their exposition has been either incorrect or too rigorous. In either case the judiciary has no means of retaliation. Such, then, being its importance, when firmly guarded, its incapacity of inflicting injury when vigorously opposed by the other branches of the government, and of defence when attacked by them, it is of great importance, in order to secure the good for which it was insti- tuted, that its dignity and independence be stron,ly guarded. and its inde- pendence firmly maintained. All American statesmen, who have expressed an opinion upon it, have, with one exception, been in favor of giving it a permanent tenure. In the convention which framed the constitution, a motion was made to make the judges removable by the executive upon an address of Congress; but it received the vote of only a single state. In the early part of his political life, and until he became president, Mr. Jef- ferson prized as high as any one the independence of the judiciary. He thus speaks of it, in a letter to Mr. Madison This is a body which, if rendered independent, and kept strictly to their own department, merits great confidence for their learning and integrity. In fact, vhat degree of confidence would be too much for a body composed of such men as XVythe, Blair, and Pendleton? On characters like these, the civiurn ardor pravajubentium, would make no impression. But during the term of Mr. Adams, several new courts were erected, which, as many thought, were sinecures, created in order to furnish support for the patrons of the admin- istration. The abolition of these courts was strongly resisted in Mr. Jef- fersons administration, on the ground that to abolish them, when once erected, is a violation of that clause of the constitution which enacts that the judges shall hold their offices during good behavior. Mr. Jefferson firmly believed that the federal party would entrench themselves behind the judiciary until they had completed the project, which, in his opinion, they 1848.3 The Independence of the Judiciary. 43 had long cherished, of converting the republic into a monarchy. He thenceforth became the determined opponent of a permanent judiciary; and his example confirms the truth, that the wisest and purest statesman will occasionally be misled by circumstances. The tenure of the judiciary should be permanent, in order that regu- larity may be preserved in the interpretation, and consequently in the execution of the laws. Mischiefs arise from the repeal of old and the enactment of new laws. Greater mischief would arise from the irregular interpretation of them. Their enactment is generally foreseen and pie- pared for by the public, but their interpretation is not, and must necessarily come upon them una~vares. If rotation in office is to prevail in the judicial system, one judge may make a decision to-day, which another may reverse to-morrow, and the government will be far more deranged by such counter decisions than when a legislature repeals the acts of its predecessors. One instance is sufficient to show the evil operation of such a principle. An important decision is to be given by the Supreme Court, on the Rhode Island case. After that (lecision has been given, suppose that the term of the present judges should expire, and others should be appointed in their place. A case might be brought before the court similar to the one now pending, and the new bench might reverse the decision of its prede- cessor. Different governments would be recognised by different judges, an(l every citizen would hesitate to which he owed his alle iance. It re- quires no farther illustration to show how our political affairs would be deranged,by the operation of such a system. If the election of the judges should be triennial or quadrennial, they would dfteu be elected on account of the opinions which they held on som~ important question, and not on account of their intrinsic merits. This is the case, as it should be, with the executive and legislature; but the judge should assume the ermine, untrammeled by previous commit- ments, save the oath which he takes to preserve its purity unspotted, if he should be chosen because he was of a certain opinion upon a question, it would be impossible for him to investigate it candidly. If he should decide contrary to his professions, however just his decisions, he would perhaps be stigmatised as a traitor; his influence would desert him, an(l all hopes of re-election would be lost. If ajuryman has formed an opinion on a case which he is empanneled to try, he is challenged, and his im- partiality will be greater, if he has previously never heard its circumstan- ces related, or its merits discussed. The same principle is applicable to the judge; and the fewer the prepossessions with which he enters his office, the greater will be his impartiality in discharging its duties. In some of the states, the candidate for office makes personal appeals to the peol)le, and without condemning the practice, as it regards the executive and legislators, it may be fairly asked, how it would seem if adopted by the judges. It would certainly be no very desirable spectacle to the anxious p~trmt to witness the judge canvassing his (listrict, and, as it were, offering justice for sale in the public market, to the highest bidder. The knowledge requisite for an able judge exceeds that required of those who are engaged in the other departments of government. To pre- vent arbitrary decisions in the courts ofjudicature, they have been bound to abide strictly by numerous precedents. These have swelled to such a number, that it requires a person of great research an(l acute discrimi- nation, to be acquainted with them, and fix the precise limit of their application. While a stainless integrity, an indispensable requisite for a judge, is possessed by a much less number than is supposeJ, few even of the learned members of the legal profession have the patience and the 41 The Chesapeake. [July, discrimination necessary for a faithful discharge of the difficult and re- sponsible duties of ajudge. Small as is the number qualified hy their moral and intellectual qualities for the judgeship, it is sending superior talent and integrity into exile, to make rotation in office a principle in the election ofjudges; and this principle would eventually prevail, if their tenures were limited, as it does in all civil offices of a limited tenure. If the arguments which have heen produced are correct, they prove incontestibly, that in a republic an independent judiciary is necessary, in order to resist the encroachments of rulers and majorities upon the constitution of the body politic, and the inalienable ri0hts of the indivi- duals who compose it; and that to secure this end, the jud~es should hold their omees during good behavior. Let, then, not a reckless spirit of innovation invade a system which has uniformly heen the means of punishing crime and protecting innocence. Let that confidence continue to be reposed in the judiciary, which it so justly deserves for its past reputation, and the American bench may long be honored by future Marshalls and Storys. TIlE CIIESAPEAKE. ON thy brim I am standing, thou beautiful bay! Where in childhood as free as the zephyr I strayd, And as glad as the lark at the dawning of day In the beams of the morning disported and playd: With entrancing delight viewed thy Waters afar, That lay like n banner of silver unfnrld, Until alowd in the westward the soft vesper~star, And the Queen of the Night sheil her smile oer the world. With my book I have walked on thy blossoming strand, While I sent my young thoughts down the vale of the past, To the time when the Red man was lord of the land, And his ear unattuned to the cannons fierce blast; Or ensconced in these bowers of roses serene, And woodbines from morning till eventide dwelt Oer the sorrows of Harold, and Spensers fair Queen At the altar of Homer enraptured have knelt. Yes, beloved Chesapeake! ah! how oft on thy bank, When the flowerets were smiling, the birds were all glee, And the young panting fawn stooped beside thee and drank, The fountains were leaping through woodland and lea; And the world was effulgent with beauty and life, Have I roved with one dear to afThction and love, Till my soul with bright visions of glory was rife, And my thoughts were all pinioned in regions above! But those days have departedthose visions are oer That dear one has gone to the laud of the blessd The friends that watchd over my slumbers of yore, And soothed by affection my sorrowing breast, Are roving afar, or repose in the clay And naught now is left midst the worlds crowded mart, Save the memory of these to enliven my way, And illumine the void in this desolate heart!

41 The Chesapeake. [July, discrimination necessary for a faithful discharge of the difficult and re- sponsible duties of ajudge. Small as is the number qualified hy their moral and intellectual qualities for the judgeship, it is sending superior talent and integrity into exile, to make rotation in office a principle in the election ofjudges; and this principle would eventually prevail, if their tenures were limited, as it does in all civil offices of a limited tenure. If the arguments which have heen produced are correct, they prove incontestibly, that in a republic an independent judiciary is necessary, in order to resist the encroachments of rulers and majorities upon the constitution of the body politic, and the inalienable ri0hts of the indivi- duals who compose it; and that to secure this end, the jud~es should hold their omees during good behavior. Let, then, not a reckless spirit of innovation invade a system which has uniformly heen the means of punishing crime and protecting innocence. Let that confidence continue to be reposed in the judiciary, which it so justly deserves for its past reputation, and the American bench may long be honored by future Marshalls and Storys. TIlE CIIESAPEAKE. ON thy brim I am standing, thou beautiful bay! Where in childhood as free as the zephyr I strayd, And as glad as the lark at the dawning of day In the beams of the morning disported and playd: With entrancing delight viewed thy Waters afar, That lay like n banner of silver unfnrld, Until alowd in the westward the soft vesper~star, And the Queen of the Night sheil her smile oer the world. With my book I have walked on thy blossoming strand, While I sent my young thoughts down the vale of the past, To the time when the Red man was lord of the land, And his ear unattuned to the cannons fierce blast; Or ensconced in these bowers of roses serene, And woodbines from morning till eventide dwelt Oer the sorrows of Harold, and Spensers fair Queen At the altar of Homer enraptured have knelt. Yes, beloved Chesapeake! ah! how oft on thy bank, When the flowerets were smiling, the birds were all glee, And the young panting fawn stooped beside thee and drank, The fountains were leaping through woodland and lea; And the world was effulgent with beauty and life, Have I roved with one dear to afThction and love, Till my soul with bright visions of glory was rife, And my thoughts were all pinioned in regions above! But those days have departedthose visions are oer That dear one has gone to the laud of the blessd The friends that watchd over my slumbers of yore, And soothed by affection my sorrowing breast, Are roving afar, or repose in the clay And naught now is left midst the worlds crowded mart, Save the memory of these to enliven my way, And illumine the void in this desolate heart! 1848.[J The Dealk of Francesco Franconia. 45 TilE DEATH OF FRANCESCO FRAN CONIA. As the era of profound learning and philosophic pursuit was restored by men of powerful genius and great talents, so also was the painters art, like the Ph~uix, revived from its slumbering ashes by highly-gifted and noble spirits. These are to be viewed as true champions of the art. We could sigh with Ossian, that the strength and greatness of those days of heroism have passed away. The histories of many of those who have earned a reputation by their own industry and genius, are valuable, and would well repay the trouble of a detailed chronicle, such as might be collected from the hands of the then patrons of the art; they are worthy of being preserved, and their memories should be venerated as are their portraits, which we respectfully contemplate. rrhere occurred in thuse days many unusual, and at present discredited facts; for the enthusiasm that now glimmers hut as a wavering light in that golden age burned brightly, lighting the whole world. Degenerate posterity, doubtless, laugh over the many true histories of those days as i(lle tales, while the god-like spark is nearly extinguished in their souls. One of the most remarkable incidents of that time, and one that I could never read without emotion, and one that my heart was never tempted to doubt, was the account of the death of Francesco Franconia, the founder of the school of Bologna and Lombardy. Francesco Fran conia although of humble origin, yet through his unwearied industry and aspir: ing genius, raised himself to the highest pinnacle of fame. In his youth he was apprenticed to a goldsmith, where he wrought articles in gold and silver of a beauty to excite the astonishment of the observer. He made casts for medals, and princes and dukes were thought to confer an honor by allowing him to transfer their likenesses to the medals; for at that pe- nod it was the custom for the nobility as well as the citizens to encoura~ e the artists by their patronage. An infinite number of royal personages were constantly passing through Bologna, none of whom failed to have their likenesses drawn by Francesco, and afterward engraved on a medal. But Francescos restless, glowing genius, longed fbr another field of action, and as his warm ambition was gratified in one pursuit, his spirit rested not until he had found another, as yet, untrodden path to fame. At forty years of age he entered upon a new art, and guided his pencil with untiring patience; he directed his whole energies to the grand and sublime, the effect of colors; and his rapidity in executing works that com- manded universal admiration, was remarkable. He was, in truth, a dis- tinguished painter; for although he had many competitors, (among whom was the god-like Raphael himself~ who, at that time, flourished in Rome) yet his works were always ranked among the most eminent; for this sublime art is not so limited that one mortal can compass all its beau- ties; neither is it a prize, which falls, by lot, to one favored individual; but its light is distributed in a thousand beams, whose refulgence is reflected back to our enraptured vision by the many noble geniuses whom heaven has sent among us. Francesco succeeded the generation of worthy painters who so deservedly obtained enduring celebrity from having founded a new school upon the ruins of ancient barbarism; rind in Lombardy he was the founder and the prince of this new empire. VOL. XXIII.NO. cxxi. 4

1848.[J The Dealk of Francesco Franconia. 45 TilE DEATH OF FRANCESCO FRAN CONIA. As the era of profound learning and philosophic pursuit was restored by men of powerful genius and great talents, so also was the painters art, like the Ph~uix, revived from its slumbering ashes by highly-gifted and noble spirits. These are to be viewed as true champions of the art. We could sigh with Ossian, that the strength and greatness of those days of heroism have passed away. The histories of many of those who have earned a reputation by their own industry and genius, are valuable, and would well repay the trouble of a detailed chronicle, such as might be collected from the hands of the then patrons of the art; they are worthy of being preserved, and their memories should be venerated as are their portraits, which we respectfully contemplate. rrhere occurred in thuse days many unusual, and at present discredited facts; for the enthusiasm that now glimmers hut as a wavering light in that golden age burned brightly, lighting the whole world. Degenerate posterity, doubtless, laugh over the many true histories of those days as i(lle tales, while the god-like spark is nearly extinguished in their souls. One of the most remarkable incidents of that time, and one that I could never read without emotion, and one that my heart was never tempted to doubt, was the account of the death of Francesco Franconia, the founder of the school of Bologna and Lombardy. Francesco Fran conia although of humble origin, yet through his unwearied industry and aspir: ing genius, raised himself to the highest pinnacle of fame. In his youth he was apprenticed to a goldsmith, where he wrought articles in gold and silver of a beauty to excite the astonishment of the observer. He made casts for medals, and princes and dukes were thought to confer an honor by allowing him to transfer their likenesses to the medals; for at that pe- nod it was the custom for the nobility as well as the citizens to encoura~ e the artists by their patronage. An infinite number of royal personages were constantly passing through Bologna, none of whom failed to have their likenesses drawn by Francesco, and afterward engraved on a medal. But Francescos restless, glowing genius, longed fbr another field of action, and as his warm ambition was gratified in one pursuit, his spirit rested not until he had found another, as yet, untrodden path to fame. At forty years of age he entered upon a new art, and guided his pencil with untiring patience; he directed his whole energies to the grand and sublime, the effect of colors; and his rapidity in executing works that com- manded universal admiration, was remarkable. He was, in truth, a dis- tinguished painter; for although he had many competitors, (among whom was the god-like Raphael himself~ who, at that time, flourished in Rome) yet his works were always ranked among the most eminent; for this sublime art is not so limited that one mortal can compass all its beau- ties; neither is it a prize, which falls, by lot, to one favored individual; but its light is distributed in a thousand beams, whose refulgence is reflected back to our enraptured vision by the many noble geniuses whom heaven has sent among us. Francesco succeeded the generation of worthy painters who so deservedly obtained enduring celebrity from having founded a new school upon the ruins of ancient barbarism; rind in Lombardy he was the founder and the prince of this new empire. VOL. XXIII.NO. cxxi. 4 The Deatk uf Francesco Franconza. [July His skilful hand completed a countless number of glorious works They were to be ftund not only in Lombardy, (where no town would allow it to be said that they did not possess at least one proof of his ge- nius,) but in every other part of Italy and all who were so fortunate as to obtain a sight of them, loudly proclaimed his fame. The Italian obles were zealous to obtain his works; travellers carried his name wherever they went, and the echo of their praises resounded hack to his ears. Those Bolognese who had visited Rome, although highly prizing their native genius, Raphael, yet, having seen with wonder his paintings, assured him of their high appreciation of his talents. The authors of his time could not refrain from introducing his praises into their works; they directed the eyes of posterity to him, and affirmed that he was hon- ored as a god. One of them is hardy enough to assert that Raphael, having once viewed his Madonna, left the school of Perugia, whose dry.. ness still cleaved to him, and adopted a higher style. Must not these repeated testimonies have affected the soul of Francesco, whose lofty spirit had aspired to the highest rank of art, and who believed a heavenly genius pervaded him? Where now shall we find this noble pride? Useless would it be to seek it in the artists of our time, who may be con- ceited and vain of their productions, but do not seem to posscs~ that noble pride in their art that characterised the old painters? Raphael was the only contemporary of Francesco whom, perhaps, he counted as a rival. He had not been fortunate enough to see one of his pictures, as he never in his life had been far from Bologna; yet, from various descriptions, he had formed a pretty correct idea of Raphaels style, and particularly from the assurances of Raphael himself, that his paintings generally were equal to his own, and many surpassed his. The j)rivilege of be- holding one was reserved for his old age. Quite unexpectedly he re- ceived a letter from Raphael, stating that he had just completed an al- tar-piece, rej)resenting the St Cecilia, which was destined for the Church of St. John, at Bologna, and that he had taken the liberty of sending it tohis friends care, begging him to confer a favor by seeing it placed in the spot intended for it; and if in the journey it had been damaged, or did he dis- cover otherwise any error, as a friend he wished him to rectify it. This letter, wherein a Raphael placed the pencil in his hand, had nearly turned his brain, and he could scarcely rest until the arrival of the pic- ture. He knew not what awaited him! At length one day, as he was comin~~ towards his house, one of his pupils ran to meet him, and inform him that the painting had arrived, and had already been placed in the best light. Francesco, beside himself, rushed in. But he~w shall we describe to the present world the emotions that distracted t~e breast of this extraordinary man? It was to him as if about to meet an absent I)rother, whom, from childhood, he had desired to embrace, and, instead, meheld an angel of light! His soul was penetrated; he bowed in hu- aility of heart, as before a higher nature. Awe-struck, he stood there; his pupils gathered around him, anxiously inquiring what had befallen him; they knew not what to think. He recovered a little, and continued fixedly gazing upon the sublime painting. How was he fallen from his height! How could he expiate the sin of his presumption in elevating himself even to the stars, amid of his am- bition in seeking to be equal to the inimitable Raphael! He smote his gray head, and wept bitter tears, that his whole life should have been consumed in vain, toilsome ambition, whereby he felt that he had made himself ridiculous, and could now only look back with shame and self- reproach. 1848.] The Roast Partridge. 47 His uplifted gaze met the St. Cecilia; he showed heaven his wounded, repentant spirit, and begged submissively for forgiveness. Being ex- hausted, his pupils were obliged to assist him to his bed. Upon leav- ing the room his eye rested on one of his own paintings of the dying Cecilialie was overcome with shame. From this time forth his mind became unsettled. The weakness of old age and the weariness of spirit, which had been sustained only by the pleasure of creating beautiful forms, now tended to dispossess his soul of its earthly dwelling. All the varieties of beautiful pictures which his fancy had created, arid to which he had given reality by trans- ferring to canvass, now passed before his distorted visionthe evil spii.its that harassed him in his fevered hours. Before his pupils were aware of his danger, they found him dead in his bed. So was this man first truly great when he felt his inferiority to the heavenly Raphael, arid the genius of art has long since consecrated him, and encircled his brow with the radiance due him, as a true martyr to the enthusiasm of art. The above story of the death of Francesco Franconia was delivered to us by the Old Bazaria, in whom the spirit of the forefathers of the art yet dwells. TilE ROAST PARTRID lIE. FROM THE FRENCH OF MARIE AYCARD. I. IN 1817, the epoch at which the events occurred that we are about to recount, Doctor Lafrenais was a young physician, prompt, lively, always ready with a repartee, with a gay heart, a caustic wit but kind, hu- mane, and, above all, easily beguiled by the magic of a pair of handsome eyes, as is the case with all individuals, who, like him, are affected with a slight curvature of the vertebral column. The Doctor, however, pos- sessed advantages which might well gain the favor of a young girl; ex- pressive eyes, a handsome face, maiked with a shade of melancholy, notwithstanding his mischievous smile, a form well shaped, although small; and although, as we have said, one of his shoulders had a curve and a disagreeable enlargementin a word, he was hump-backed. A good chemist, a distinguished anatomist, a learned physician, nature had endowed him with that sagacious glance which discerns the moral causes of bodily suffering, and permits the physician to apply his first remedies to the wounds of the soul, before entering upon the uncertain cure of physical evils. Endowed thus with his natural abilities and his acquired qualifica-. tions, M. Lafrenais, as soon as he had obtained his diploma, and could add M.D. to his signature, took lodgings in the Rue St. Martin, resolved to practise his art at the expense of all whom it might concern. More fortunate than a great number of his colleagues, he possessed a moderate fortune; he could wait. He installed himself, therefore, in a neat apart- ment on the ground floor, furnished it with elegance, provided himself with a book case, which he filled with large volumes, handsomely bound,

1848.] The Roast Partridge. 47 His uplifted gaze met the St. Cecilia; he showed heaven his wounded, repentant spirit, and begged submissively for forgiveness. Being ex- hausted, his pupils were obliged to assist him to his bed. Upon leav- ing the room his eye rested on one of his own paintings of the dying Cecilialie was overcome with shame. From this time forth his mind became unsettled. The weakness of old age and the weariness of spirit, which had been sustained only by the pleasure of creating beautiful forms, now tended to dispossess his soul of its earthly dwelling. All the varieties of beautiful pictures which his fancy had created, arid to which he had given reality by trans- ferring to canvass, now passed before his distorted visionthe evil spii.its that harassed him in his fevered hours. Before his pupils were aware of his danger, they found him dead in his bed. So was this man first truly great when he felt his inferiority to the heavenly Raphael, arid the genius of art has long since consecrated him, and encircled his brow with the radiance due him, as a true martyr to the enthusiasm of art. The above story of the death of Francesco Franconia was delivered to us by the Old Bazaria, in whom the spirit of the forefathers of the art yet dwells. TilE ROAST PARTRID lIE. FROM THE FRENCH OF MARIE AYCARD. I. IN 1817, the epoch at which the events occurred that we are about to recount, Doctor Lafrenais was a young physician, prompt, lively, always ready with a repartee, with a gay heart, a caustic wit but kind, hu- mane, and, above all, easily beguiled by the magic of a pair of handsome eyes, as is the case with all individuals, who, like him, are affected with a slight curvature of the vertebral column. The Doctor, however, pos- sessed advantages which might well gain the favor of a young girl; ex- pressive eyes, a handsome face, maiked with a shade of melancholy, notwithstanding his mischievous smile, a form well shaped, although small; and although, as we have said, one of his shoulders had a curve and a disagreeable enlargementin a word, he was hump-backed. A good chemist, a distinguished anatomist, a learned physician, nature had endowed him with that sagacious glance which discerns the moral causes of bodily suffering, and permits the physician to apply his first remedies to the wounds of the soul, before entering upon the uncertain cure of physical evils. Endowed thus with his natural abilities and his acquired qualifica-. tions, M. Lafrenais, as soon as he had obtained his diploma, and could add M.D. to his signature, took lodgings in the Rue St. Martin, resolved to practise his art at the expense of all whom it might concern. More fortunate than a great number of his colleagues, he possessed a moderate fortune; he could wait. He installed himself, therefore, in a neat apart- ment on the ground floor, furnished it with elegance, provided himself with a book case, which he filled with large volumes, handsomely bound, 45 The Roast Partridge. [July, and after having paid the usual visit to the mayor of his arrondissement, and to the Curate of the parish, he commenced, for his own private in- struction, the study of the quarter Saint Martin. One day he was about to sit down to dinner, when a ring was heard at his door. It is some friend, he said to himselg and he directed his cook to place an additional cover upon the table. It was a patienthis first patient, who came in the form of a pretty and well-dressed chambermaid. Is this the Doctor i she asked. Yes, my child, Doctor of Medicine of the Faculty of Paris. My mistress wishes you to come to her house. Is your mistress sick ? No, sir; it is her husband. Tell me the name and the dwelling, and I will come immediately. At this moment, the cook entered the dining-room, in which the Doc- tor was seated, and placed the soup U~Ofl the table. Oh, there is no hurry, said the chambermaid, monsieur can finish his dinner. If the young disciple of Esculapius had yielded to his medical ardor, he would have hurried to his first patient, without bestowing a thought upon his dinner; but he reflected that to manifest too great eagerness might detract from his dignity. He dismissed the chambermaid, there- fore, after having learned that he had been sent for by Madame Baude- lot, who lived in the Rue Grenetat, No. 40. Adieu, mademoiselle, he said, with a friendly gesture to the young girl ; you can tell your mistress that I will visit her after dinner. Lafrenais did not fail to remark, that the chambermaid was very pretty, and the latter left the apartment, saying to herself that the little hump- backed Doctor was really quite genteel. The Doctor ate his dinner in haste; and dressed in his black coat, his neck imprisoned in a white cravat, he repaired to the Rue Grenetat, to the house of Madame Baudelot. The Baudelots were formerly silk- mercers, and having grown rich, had retired from business. They had hut one daughtertheir only heiress. It was she, Mademoiselle Marie, (this was her name) who received the Doctor. Lafrenais was dazzled by her beauty. Marie possessed the youth and the brilliancy of Hebe, the seductive grace of the loveliest of Jupiters daughters, and, to pur- sue these mythological comparisons, the intoxicating gaiety of Thalia. Two dimples graced her cheeks, one her chin, her nose was slightly turned up, and a profusion of chestnut-colored hair half-concealed her white foreheadsuch was Mademoiselle Marie Baudelot, in comparison with whom, the little chambermaid, Justine, although very pretty, was a complete dowdy. Madame Baudelot was not long in making her ap- pearance. She was a good-natured looking woman, round as an apple, and, notwithstanding her forty-five years, had a complexion almost as brilliant as her daughters. Ah ! she said, with a curtesy, it is the Doctor. I thank you for having come, sir; it is my poor Baudelot; Bandelot is sick. They have told you what was the matter ? Not the least in the world, madam; but if you will permit me, I will. Ah, thus it is, sir. You must know that Baudelot is a Parisian, sir a Parisian of the old sort. Now a Parisian is always gay, always smil- ing; but as soon as he is sick, he thinks himself dead. 1848.] The Roast Partridge. 49 I shall take care not to alarm him, madam, said the Doctor, who, from the very outset, had made a conquest of Madame Baudelot. Lafrenais was then led to his patients chamber; M. Baudelot was suffering from an attack of indigestion; a true Parisian as he was, he was fond of goose, and goose is very indigestible. The Doctor pre- scribed the strictest diet, wrote a trifling prescription, and withdrew, promising to call agaiu. He easily cured his first patient, and, thanks to his gaiety of temper, to the complacence with which he felt the pulse of Madame Baudelot, and relieved the vapors of the good dame, he be- came the intimate friend of the family. The object which attracted him to the house of M. Baudelot was mademoiselle Marie. The love which had smitten him for this young girl, had becime a violent passion. I am not disagreeable to her, he said to himselg that is evident; I will ask her mother for her hand. M. Baudelot was too good a Parisian not to suffer himself to he ruled by his wife; Madame Baudelot was mistress in the house; it was to her, therefore, that he must address himself, and the young Doctor did not doubt that she would favor his suit. The Baudelots were rich; Lafre- nais also had a moderate fortune, an honorable, and, at the same time, lucrative profession; his business was increasing every day; he was fast obtaining the entire practice of the Rue St. Martin and its environs; he therefore whispered his demand in Madame Baudelots ear, between two prescriptions. Why, Doctor, said Madame Baudelot, that which you propose is very important, and at the same time very honorable to me. I must speak of the matter to Baudelot. Oh, if I have your consent, replied Lafrenais, I shall esteem my- self the happiest of men. M. Baudelot has too high an opinion of your excellent judgment not to submit to your decision. I must tell you, Doctor, replied Madame Baudelot, half closing her eyes, we have always been very good friends with the Vacheliers; you will say that Madame Vachelier, who passed for a beauty thirty years ago, has given a little room for scandalbut that is long since besides, the son has nothing to do with that: he is, not the less, a very handsome fellow, and owns the finest drug shop in the Rue des Loin- bards. ~ A druggist ! said Lafrenais, disdainfully, with a view to pique Madame Baudelots vanity. He is a captain in the National Guard, continued Madame Baude- lot, and is quite likely to obtain the crosswithout taking into con- sideration that he is an only son, and that the Vacheliers own three houses in this quarter, and an estate in the neighborhood of Orleans, which is worth its money. And you intend, madam said the Doctor, whose cheek grew pale. I! Not at all, Doctor, replied Madame Baudelot, quickly, I would ask nothing better than to have you for a son-in-law; but as the Vacheliers have asked our daughters hand for their son, I must, of course, speak with Baudelot, and then it will be necessary also to con- sult the wishes of a person whom we have not mentionedof Marie, my dear Doctor, Marie. I am a good mother, Doctor, and I will not force my child to a marriage against her inclinations. No objection could be offered to all this, and the Doctor could flatter himself that be might bear away the palm from the druggist. On this day, Lafrenids neglected his patients to repair to the Rue des Lombards; 59 Tke Roast Partridge. [July, he even entered the shop of NJ. Vachelier, the younger, and while he bargained with him for rhubarb, he endeavored to fi)rm an opinion of his moral and physical qualifications. M. Vachelier was a handsome lad, tall, well made, but with an unmeaning face, a wandering eye, slow and solemn in his movements, in fine, a booby. Lafrenais questioned him, tried to engage him in conversation, easily succeeded, and was soon C(,flvillced that the individual before him was a person of no value, desti- tute of intelligence, a parade horse, who might appear i~ery handsome at the head of his troop on a review day, but who, in a moment of dan- ger, would prove the least resolute National Guard of his company. Somewhat encouraged by this scrutiny, the Doctor returned home, and postponed, until the morrow, the decisive interview which was to take place between himself and Madame Baudelot. Tht, latter approached him with tears in her eyes. My dear Doctor, she said, if you knew how wretched I am, you would pity me. There are two men whom I love more than all the worldthe first is my confessorthe second is you. I wish I had two daughters to give them; but I have but one; besides, the priests do not marry, and as for you Does M. Baudelot refuse me his daughters hand l cried Lafrenais, with a trembling voice. Mon Dieu! no; you know very well that Baudelot does just as I wish. WTeII, then ? Well, then! why it is Marie who refuses to he your wife. And her reasons ? inquired Lafrenais, boldly. Madame Baudelot was a good-hearted soul, loquacious, and ill able to envelope her thoughts in the folds of those happy circumlocutions, which spare us the pain of using the true word; she was, at first, greatly em~ barrassed to say why her daughter refused the young physician; at last, she passed her plump, round hand over Lafrenais shoulder, and tap. ping him gently upon the back, she said It is becauseyou knowyou comprehend ? It is because I am hump-backed ! said the Doctor, in a tone of grief 4 You have hit it ! said Madame Baudelot, that is it! Marie wilt not espouse a hump-back. Ah, if I were in her place, I would not do 8S she does, I assure you; I would marry you in spite of your hump; I do not know a man who is to be compared to you, let him be straight as he may. This common-place consolation of the well.meaninr Madame Ban debt was far from being able to banish the Doctors grief. His first wish was that he might be allowed to convince himself of mademoiselles re- pugnatice to him; he had an interview with the young girl; she con- firmed what her mother had said; she had not a particle of love for him. Lafrenais~ left Madame Baudelots house in despair; hurried home, provided himself with two or three rouleaux of louis, and, without giv- ing a thought to his patients, he went to the office of the Rue Mdntmar- tre, and entered the first diligence, in which he found a vacant seat, and to which the horses were already harnessed; be did not even inquire whither it was going; it went to Lyons. In this city he changed his vehicle, and from stage to stage, from peril to pei-il, he at last found himself in Rome. lie had made the journey, frantic with grief and love, his head perpetually concealed in his hands, and ponderng incessantly upon his accursed hump, which had deprived him of the love of the only 1843.3 The Roast Partridge. person who could ever make an impression npon his heart. If he had not been a physicianif he had not been convinced, that, at his age, his misfortune was irremediable, he would have hurried to some hos- pital, and there subjected himself to the tortures of an orthopedic bed. But heaven alone could heal him; and heaven does not amuse itself with straightening a vertebral column, for the sake of bringing about a match between a young girl and a Doctor of the Faculty of Paris. Science has this advantage it prevents us from forming useless wishes, and from yieldingto delusive hopes. Rome, the eternal city, the city of the Cresars, and the metropolis of Christendom., offers, at every step, the most hallowed traces, precious vestiges of the past, which would naturally excite a singular interest in a man like Lafuenais. The beauty of the Roman dames is also celebra- ted. Lafrenais saw nothing, neither the Coliseum nor St. Peters, nor the Roman dames; he left Rome without even having seen the Pope. I must return to Paris, he said to himself, ~ to the juarter Saint Martin, to the Rue Crenetat. I shall see her, at least. And he threw himself into a diligence, and journeyed, post haste, to Paris, paying double guides all along the road, and feeing every postil- lion, solely for the pleasure of seeing a young girl, who did nut love him, and who mocked at his hump. When he reached Paris, Lafrenais found mademoiselle Bandelot mar- ried. The young girl was now Madame Vachelier; she dwelt in the Rue des Lombards, in the house of her husband, the druggist, and mademoiselle Justine, the pretty chambermaid, had followed her young mistress. II. Lafrenais saw Madame Vachelier again; he was introduced to he husband, and became the physician and friend of the family. This un- fortunate adventure had taught him the disadvantage of not being formed like the rest of the world. He was hump-backed; he could not please; every mother kept her daughters out of his way ; no young girl would accept him for a husband, unless it might be one as ill shaped as him- self. This thought discouraged him; it increased his melancholy and his passion; he loved the young wife more and more every day. A liscovery which he was not long in making, augmented the sadness into ~hicli he had fallen. Madame Vachelier did not love her husband; she had accepted him because he was rich, from motives of convenience, perhaps merely to. escape the importunities of Lafrenais, who was a great favorite of Madame Baudelot, her mother, and whom the latter would have preferred to M. Vachelier for her son-in-law. This thought haunted Lafrenais incessantly; it augmented both his grief and his love. As we have said, the young physician had thoroughly studied all the branches of his art. Richerand, Bichat, Grimaud, were his favorite authors; and although it has been remarked, and, perhaps, with more wit than truth, that physiology is nothing but the romance of medicine, La- frenais was a firm believer in the influence of temperamer~t, and the pre- dominance of such or such a system of organs. Every man, according to his views, was brought into the world with a particular disposition~ the development of which is favored or repressed by the circumstances in which the individual is placed, and, above all, by manners, climate, education and custom, which constitute a second nature. Lafrenais was very skilful in this science, and it had enabled him to ~i2 The Roast Partridge. [Jury form an accurate judgment of M. Vachelier, the dru~ist, and captain of the National Guard. Wherefore did he not subject Mademoiselle Marie Baudelot to the same analysis I Wherefore, at least, when the young girl had espoused M. Vachelier, and when he had lost all hope, did he not study the lines of that face, which so charmed himthe deep and ardent glances of those eyes which he adored? It was because love had blinded him, and because, in spite of his intelligence and his reason, Lafrenais nourished in the depths of his soul the secret hope that he might one day soften the heart of Madame Vachelier. If his senses had not been captivated, his mind enslaved, his reason obscured, he would have carefully examined this young woman. Her narrow fore- head, her thick lips, her small chin, although it was flirnislied with dimple, would have indicated to him the violent passions and the sen- sual appetites of Madame Vachelier, whose mind, courageous even to hardihood, was exempt neither from the craft nor the resolution neces- sary to conceal her projects. Lafrenais would then have fled this dan- gerous woman, and instead of cursing his lot, he would have congratu- lated himself upon having escaped the snare into which M. Vachelier had fallen. But love is blind; it changes everythingit embellishes every- thing. What brilliant and passionate eyes ! said the young physician to himself; her forehead is narrow, it is true, but it is the forehead of~the Venus do Medicis; she contracts her brows like Juno, her lips are smiling like those of Thalia. Ab, M. Vachelier, M. Vachelier, of what a treasure have you rohbed me! Was it not enough to he a captain in the National Guard 1 We will leave Dr. Lafrenais to his amorous regrets, in order to occupy ourselves with the interior of Madame Vacheliers household. Mademoiselle Marie Baudelot was not a physiognomist; she was ut- terly ignorant of physiologyshe had never studied the moral qualities of NI. Vachelier, neither had she been attracted by his physical advanta- ges. She had espoused him in the hope of governing him at her will, in spite of his epaulettes and his long sabre. At the expiration of three months her object was attained, and Madame XTachelier found herself mistress of the house. Although far from being industrious, she was an active woman; she loved to meddle with her husbatids affairs, passed a great part of her time in the shop, learned the prices of the drugs and their use, sold, bought, made bargains with the wholesale dealers, and thus assumed the place of M. Vachelier, in the establishment, while the latter, resigning himself to his gross appetites and his love of repose, long breakfast, and very fond of taking his si sat ,at was esta, luxuri ously, upon the divan in his saloon. Vachelier was rich, and he thought neither of augmenting his fortune, nor of the prosperity of his business; but, on the one hand, he coveted municipal honors; on the other, he loved the pleasures of the table like an alderman, and fortune had placed him in such a position that he could gratify the latter of these tastes, while, at the same time, the road of ambition remained open to him. His project was to resign his rank of captain in the National Guard, the duties of which were too laborious for his indolence, and to obtain the appointment of municipal councillor of his arrondissement. His own influence, and the credit of NI. Baudelot, his father-in-law, assured him an easy path; and, seated upon his divan, with his eyes half closed, he built, like Alnascar, his castles in the air. I shall enter the municipal council, he said to himself; from that to the general council, is but a step. My devotion to the august family 1848.] The Roast Partridge. 53 of the Bourbons is well known; the Duchess of Angouleme honors me with her patronage. I stand well with my curate, I shall have the cross; I shall then he named adjunct to the mayor, that will lead me to the Chamber of Deputies. Once deputy, and the mayor of my arrondisse- ment, sick, dead, or called to other duties, and I shall be named mayor: a useful mayor, a necessary deputy, when combined in one and the same person, is a treasure, and they will refuse nothing to such a man. Once mayor, once deputy, Vachelier, my friend, and you will be a peer when you please. The ambition of the druggist did not stop short of this; but while he rocked himself in his dreams, he became, day by day, a stranger to his shop, the control of which was completely usurped by his wife. Madame Vachelier sold, bought, and changed the clerks in the shop, without even mentioning the matter to her husband; and thus it often happened that when Vachelier, after having dreamed that he had just delivered a speech in the Chamber of Peers, descended to his shop, he recognized neither his cashier nor his book-keeper; his wife had dis- missed the old ones and had engaged new. As it is customary in com- mercial houses to admit the principal clerks to table, Vachelier, at times, found himself dining with an unknown guest; and when he inquired of his wife the name of the gentleman with the good appetite, who sat on his left It is one of our travelling clerks, she would reply; he is very skilful in the business.~~ The future peer of France would then cast his eyes upon his plate; and although his wifes conduct greatly displeased him, he opened his mouth only to eat, and dined with as good an appetite as his new clerk. It is impossible that a woman, who governs her husband so easily, should not despise him. Madame Vachelier, who had no love for her husband, was accustomed to regard him as beneath the lowest of her domestics, and to treat him accordingly. The example of her mother was of great service to her. Vachelier endeavored, once or twice, to resume his place in his shop; his wife soon regulated that, and the captain in the National Guard was requested to attend to hi3 company. In the meanwhile Madame Vachelier received into her house a new travelling clerk, M. Jules Regnauld. He was a handsome lad of twenty- eight years, with black hair, dark complexion, and strongly marked fea- tures; gay, bold, always with a refrain upon his lips; combining the puns of M. de Bievre with the songs of Beranger, and the legerdemain tricks of M. Comte, with the practice of the various social games. Jules Reg- nauld had twenty times traversed France in all directions; he was ac- quainted with the shores of the Mediterranean; he had gone in search of gums, even to Upper Egypt, of coffee, even to Mecca, and had everywhere found adventures, which he recounted to each one he met, introduced into every conversation, speaking loud, imposing his opinion, and almost his will upon all those with whom he came in contact, and this, always laughing and flisking, without appearing to care for that which he desired most, that which he demanded, almost with despotic authority; in other rbspects, he was commonplace, sometimes rude, but at heart ever frank and honest. M. Jules Regnauld was to travel on business for the establishment; but before leaving Paris, it was neces- sary that he should render himself familiar with the usual operations of Vacheliers house; that he should learn the number and. credit of his correspondents, that by living in the house for some months, he should acquaint himself with the nature of his business. M. Jules then took up 54 Tke Eoast Partridge. [July, his abode with M. and Madame Vachelier, and shared in the meals of the family. A week had not elapsed befr,re he managed everything, before the sceptre of the drug shop, which had fallen to the distaff, had passed from the hands of the young wife into those of the travelling clerk. This event took place without Madame Vacheliers perceiving it, and as the most natural thing in the world. Bourgeoise, said Jules Regnauld, when he saw a customer enter the shop, let me manage; it is an acquaintance; I know how to talk to this sort of people. Go. I say, go and wile away your time over the books. I was at the exchange yesterdayI know the price current this individual would only outwit yots ; with me there is no danger. And taking Madame Vachelier gently about the waist, he would whirl her half round, and then turn to sell the bags of pepper or indigo. This conduct did not displease the young woman. Here is a man, she thought to herself; Ah! if M. Vachelier re- sembled him ! She was never weary of contemplating the manly face, the proud and regular features, and well-shaped form of Jules Regnauld. The latter, always gay and good humored, did not remark the interest with which Madame Vachelier looked upon him; that which he had remarked was the pretty face and handsome eyes of Mademoiselle Justine, the cham- bermaid, who, in the house of the rich, but plain-fashioned M; Vachelier, was )ftener busied with the details of the kitchen than with madames toilette. M. Jules found means to be always at Justines heels; he met her everywhere, in the dining-room, in the corridors, in the cellar, which, with druggists, is oftener stocked with bottles of essence, or hampers of resin, than with wine. He so contrived it that his assiduities es- caped all eyes, even those of Madame Vachelier. Justine favored these rnanmuvres, and still the passion of Madame Vachelier for the handsome travelling clerk, increased from day to day; it became, at last, so ardent and so violent, that M. Jules Regnauld perceived it, and resolved to es- cape her importunities. He took leave of Justine, promised to return faithfully to her, and informed Madame Vachelier that he could not re- main longer in Paris; that he needed change of scene, to inhale the air of the high-roads, and see the shore of the Mediterranean again. Ma- dame Vachelier endeavored to oppose his departure, but the travel- ling clerk had provided himself with the means of acting according to his will. Bourgeoi~e, he said to her, no nonsense; I must go; it is for the good of the establishment; it is not in the Rue des Lombards that I can ply my trade and earn my wages. I need you here, replied Madame Yachelier, addressing her sweet- est smile to Jules Regnauld; we will defer your journey for a month, two monthswe will see by-and-bye. By no means! I am off~ and this evening; I have orders from head- quarters, bourgeoise. Orders! and who here can give orders except me l cried Madame Vachelier. Who U replied the travelling clerk, why, bourgeoise, I have seen the bourgeoise, and we have tuned our flutes together. Adieu, then, bour~eoise, I leave Paris this evening, at six oclock, at the diligence office, precisely. Madame Vachelier entered her husbands apartment, who, having been consulted by Jules Regnauld, had, in fact, directed him to set out. It was not that the good man was in the least degree jealous; on the con- 1848.] The Roast Partridge. trary, he had conceived a tender friendship for Regnauld, and, delighted at having been consulted by him, he had the more readily resolved to give an order, thus solicited by his travelling clerk, as he was sure that the latter would support him, if his wife was of a different opinion which did not fail to happen. Madame Vachelier exclaimed, raved, stormed. The indolent and ambitious Vachelier declared that he was master in his own house, and that Jules Regnauld should depart. The travelling clerk set out the same evening. III. Madame Vachelier was not in the habit of seeing her will opposed; it is true, she had for more than a month obeyed Jules Regnauld; but this was the result of a passion which swayed her unconsciously; she found it pleasant to yield to the wishes of the young man, to see him play the master in her house, and occupy the place which she had already given him in her heart; but with M. Vachelier~,it was a very different thing; he had resolved, for once, to be master; he had given an order, and this order separated her from the man whom she loved! The wife of the druggist, who did not love her husband, who did not esteem him, passed from indifference and contempt to hatred. She resolved in her brain the most sinister projects. Alone in her shop, with her head leaning upon her hand, she gave herself up to dreams of the future; her love for Jules Regnauld is returned, and now, at least, no one can find fault with it. Jules Regnauld is the master of the shop; he sells, he buys, he doubles the fortune of the house. A customer enters, he addresses Regnauld. This is my wife, says the latter. This wife of Regnauld was herself. What, in the meanwhile, had be- come of M. Vachelier? She did not know; she would not think upon that. Doctor Lafrenais, who was always on the watch for a favorable moment to see Madame Vachelier, often passed along the Rue des Loin- bards. One day, when he saw the young wife thus alone in the shop, he hastened in, seated himself gently near her, and said, as he felt her pulse There is agitation here, Mariemuch agitation. You have slept ill. Yes, Doctor, very ill. Your nerves are agitated; I would wager that it is Vachelier. Oh ! replied Marie, pouting disdainfully; I do not permit M. Vachelier to irritate my nerves. Excellent! Ah, ha! Vachelier was not the husband that you re- quired. Not for that, it is true, replied Madame Vachelier. Doctor Lafrenais was far from being an immoral man, but he was enamored, and he looked upon Vachelier as having robbed him of the woman whom he loved. He practised a delusion upon himself, there- fore, and in speaking of his passion to his patient, he sought, not to se- duce the wife of another, but to regain his lost rights. She has tried a well-formed husband, he thought, and she has not been contented; why should she not take a hump-backed lover? The Doctor wrote a prescription, and ventured a declaration; he pre- scribed syrup of poppies, and kissed the hand of his patient. Madame Vachelier permitted it, and thought of the travelling clerk, from whom she expected letters. Still, she did not reduce the Doctor to despair; he was a friend that it was necessary to manage, an ally that might become The Roast Partridge. [July, useful, a slave whom she must not allow to break his chains. The young womans mother, Madame Baudelot, was far from being fond of her son- in-law, and she made common cause with her daughter. Vachelier had hut a single support in the family, to wit, M. Baudelot, who, like him. self, lived in subjection to his wife, but who, at least, was neither hated nor despised. Similar tastes united them; both were fond of the pleas- ures of the table, and both had recourse to the skill of Doctor Lafrenais, wnen their digestive organs were disordered. Father-in-law, said Vachelier to M. Baudelot, come and dine with me to day; I have a trout from the Rhine, which I will have dressed a la Chainbord. M. Baudelot always invited his son-in-law whenever he received a basket of game from Mans, for, in compliance with Lafrenais advice, M. Baudelot now abstained from eating goose, the flesh of which is often tough, and always difficult of digestion. That of which Vachelier was particulaly fond was game; the long-billed snipe made him forget the im- perious character of his wife, and the red-legged partridge, his projects of ambition. September was his favorite month; it is then that game is in perfection, neither too young nor too old; the vine leaves grow ex- pressly to wrap up the larks, and pork arrives from Lorraine solely to spread itself in delicate slices over the young partridges. While Vachelier was thinking of the game which was soon to adorn his table, and Doctor Lafrenais was musing upon the means to soften his cruel mistress, Jules Regnauld wrote to his bourgeoise; thiswasadu~y which he could scarcely avoid, since Madame Vachelier had taken the place which should have been occupied by her husband. lIe wrote often, therefore, and he endeavored to render his letters as agreeable as possible; it was necessary, as he thought, to establish himself anew in the good graces of Madame Vachelier, and to obtain her pardon for having de- parted against her wishes. Whether from chance or from skill, Regnauld executed his commissions successfully; everything that he undertook turned out well; he had, therefore, nothing but good news to announce to her, and yielding to his jovial and facetious disposition, he interlarded his epistles with phrases of gallantry and exaggerated compliments. Naturally a favorite with the women, and accustomed to treat them with those minute cares and delicate attentions which are so flattering to the sex, he accompanied his letters vith slight presents, addressed to Ma- dame Vachelier. have found At Moulins, he wrote to her, I some pretty little scis- sors, made for the hands of a fairy; I send a pair to you, bourgeoise. Such a present will not cut friendship between people like us. Here, he wrote from Marseilles, are scarfs which will become you admirably; they were made at Tunis, for the wives of the Dey, but an old rogue of a Mahometan stole them from the chief eunuch, and smuggled them into Marseilles; it was for you, bourgeoise. The travelling clerk did not neglect M. Vachelier; he sent him all the culinary wonders which he met with in his travels; he had a friendship for his bourgeois, (this was the name that he gave to M. Vachelier,) and he was far from feeling the slightest contempt for him. In Regnaulds eyes, M. Vachelier was a worthy soul, who loved good eating and good drink- ing, both very natural propensities, which prove that a man is a friend to mirth, and carries his heart in his hand. He was a captain in the Na- tional Guard, a post which the travelling clerk would have aspired after himself, if he had been a burgher of Paris. Finally, M. Vachelier was accused of indolence, of no longer attending to the affairs of his shop, and 1848.] The Roast Partridge. 57 of leaving all the burthen of the business to his wife. Regnauld am proved of this conduct also, because M. Vachelier was rich, and a rich man has a right to repose and take his ease. It was quite just, also, that, if Madame Vachelier took the trouble to sell aniseed and nutmegs, she should likewise enjoy the advantages attached to ibis post, that is to say, that she should he mistress of the house. All things consideied, M. Vachelier had chosen the best part. As to the bourgeoise, the travelling clerk had completely understood the language of her eyes, the eloquence which spoke in the pressure of her hand. He appreciated, as it deserved, the complaisance of the young wife in leaving him lord and ma6ter in the shop; but he looked upon all that as quite insignificant; he was accustomed to please the women, and he was not in the habit of responding to every advance that was made to him. Madame Vachelier was very young and very pretty; still, her beauty was of a kind which did not please Jules Regnauld, who was smitten with Mademoiselle Justine, and who, besides, in all the houses in which be had been employed, had always abstained from any intrigue with the bourgecise as a fatal snare, in which inexperienced clerks alone are liable to fall, and which have no other result than debates and un- pleasant quarrels, and end usually in a dismissal the more injurious, as it leaves behind it an equivocal reputation. He had resolved, therefore, to pay no attention to Madame Vacheliers glances and sighs, and it was to escape the importunities of his bourgeoise, rather than for the interest of the establisbment, that be bad decided to leave Paris. Justine, who really loved Jules Regnauld, had remarked her mistresss passion, and fearing SC) formidable a rival, she bad herself persuaded the travelling clerk to depart. But my little Titine, Regnauld had replied, if I absent myself I shall be deprived of the pleasure of seeing you; and it seems to me that, to live near one we love, to be lodged and fed, to get ten francs a day and have nothing to do, is tolerably pleasant. Justine had then told him that she was the daughter of a rich farmer of Burgundy; that, having lost her mother when very young, her father had married again, and had given her a cross and ill-natured step-mother, and that the latter, having had a son, had commenced by depriving her of her fathers affection, and then, by her harsh treatment, bad compelled her, about eight years ago, to fly from the paternal roof. Since that time Justine had never heard a word of her family, and, while she was persuaded that her step-mother had deprived her of her patrimony, in order to transfer it to her brother, she was ignorant whether her father still lived, and whether by chance be did not sometimes think of his ill- treated daughter. If you leave Paris, Jules, said Justine to her lover, whither will you go ? The business of the house requires that I should go to Marseilles. It will be very convenient for you then, pursued the young girl, to pass through Burgundy. Nothing is easier, Titine; it is precisely my route. No sooner was Justine convinced of this, than she made Regnauld promise that he would pay a visit to her father at Semur, a little town containing about four thousand inhabitants, fifteen leagues from Dijon. Be easy, my little Titine, said the travelling clerk, I will see the venerable author of your being; I will tell him that he has the prettiest daughter in all France arid Navarre; I will see your terrible step- mother, and I promise you I will bring back a good account of her. Regnauld set out. He passed, at first, through the Bourbonnais, to The Roast Partridge. [July, purchase little knives for his bourgcoise, but on his return he took the road through Burgundy, in order to see the family of Mademoiselle Jus- tine, and to bring her the very latest news of her relatives. A few days after this visit he was in Paris. The arrival of Jules Regnauld occasioned great joy in the house of the druggist; every one found cause for gratification in it; Vachelier, be- cause he was very glad to have a young man in his house, whose wit and gaity enlivened his repasts, a boon companion, who drank his wine undiluted, ate heartily, and after dinner recounted the most amusing sto- ries; Madame Vachelier, because she felt a passion for the travelling clerk, a passion which she no longer dissembled, and Justine, because she also loved Jules Regnauld, who, at a glance, imxformed her that he was the bearer of good news. M~ dear fellow, said Vachelier to his clerk, clapping him upon the shoulder, you have arrived just in time; I have some fine woodcock and a venison steak, which will be perfect. Since we have had Justine in the kitchen, she improves every day; do not fail at the roll call. Woudcock, venison, and all prepared by Mademoiselle Titine, and that certain wineyou know Yes, that certain wine. I will dine with you, my boirrgeois. And after dinner, said Madame Vachelier, you will go with me into the shop; I have something to say o you, M. Jules. Madame Vachelier uttered these words in her sweetest tone; she had allowed mademoiselle Justine to absent herself during the whole eve- ning, and had thus arranged a t~1e-d-t~te of an hour or two with her travel- ling clerk. No, replied Jules Regnauld, tranquilly, after dinner I must go out. By no means, my good friend, you have yet to render me an account of your journey; I must have a little light upon matters. Bourgeoise, said Regnauld, we will give our light by day-light; this evening my presence is necessary at the Aribigu. Regnauld. in truth, ditied with a good appetite, did honor to the wine and the game of his hoz~rgeois, and having finished his coffee, took his hat and left the Rue des Lombards, to repair to the Ambigu. It is unnecessary to say that Justine was waiting for him at the nearest corner, and that the two young people went together to the Arnhigu, to see the favorite melo-drama. As they were unwilling that their secret should be known, they did not return home together. Mademoiselle Justine entered the house first. Jules Regnauld, before repairing to his attic, took a turn or two in the street. Madame Vachelier was waiting for him. It was midnight. M. Vachelier had been long asleep; Justine had just ascended to her little chamber in the, fifth story; the clerks were in bed; the druggists wife was sitting up alone in the shop. No sooner had Jules Regnauld entered, than she opened a little door which led from the shop to the court-yard, and called Jules ! Jules ! Nothing ever embarrassed the travelling clerk. Ha ! he said, the bourgeoise is still up. He entered the shop. Will you not give me an opportunity of thanking you Jules V she said. For what, bourgeoise? do you mean the little scissors of Moulins ? I am very grateful for that mark of attention, said Madame Vache- her, fastening her burning eyes upon the young man, but that is a trifles 1848.J The Roast Partridge. there is something which merits more gratitude: I refer to the manner in which you have transacted the business of our house. It was roy duty, replied the travelling clerk, and, do you see, lwurgeoise, I carry luck with me. And besides, said Madame Vachelier, you understand business better than any one in Paris. I flatter myself I do, bourgeoise. And have you no ambition ? Ah, ha! 1 do not say that. You have ambition then ? And why not, bourgecise? I hope, indeed, that I shall not live and die a clerk. I believe it, said Madame Vachelier, glancing tenderly at M. Jules Regnauld; you were not made for that. Oh, I have my own ideas, bourgeoisc. I wish to set up for myself. Do yo u think of leaving us, then? inquired Madame Vachelier, with alarm. Regnauld was far from loving the ~ourgeoise, but his manners with w ,men were the rude, bold manners of a travelling clerk, spoiled by s:ccess with the waiting maids at inns and the shop girls; besides, he nagined that the best means to extinguish the fire which he saw burn- in g in the eyes of the bourgeoise, was to reply in a jesting tone. lie ma(le two or three pirouettes, hum rued a couplet, in which mention was male of the lovely Fanchon, and passing his arm around Madame Vach- eliers waist, he gave utterance to the following soliloquy Leave you, my bo?srgeoise! Mon Then I it would be very disagreca-. ble to leave a pretty little mother like you! But I must, of course, set up for myself some day, and the sooner the betteris it not so, bur- geoixe ? I have an idea that a woman is to make my fi)rtune; ha, what think you? such things have been. Finally, I might become master here, or elsewhere, instead of remaining a clerk. Father Vachelier can retire ~ he is rich enough, and I might parch ase his business, ifif a woman would give me the means, and that is possible, bourgeoise. Come, come, mother, it is time to go to bed; business to-morrow. My head is in a fog this eveningI have just seen a melo-drama, in which they killed a quantity of brave fellws. And Jules Regnauld caught his hourgenise again about the waist, sing- ing a soncz in which the rhymes in me alternated with heart and dart, love and dove. -V At eleven oclock on the following morning Regnauld was in Madame Vacheliers shop, with his head bent over the account-books, reperusing his correspondence; he had yet to render a statement of his business opera-. tions during his journey. The dl fly away with the 1$ ourgeoise ! he muttered between his teeth ~ when a fellow has no need of her she is always at his elbow, and when he feels the want of her for a moment, she vanishes, disappears, and he cannot catch a glimpse of her. Instead of disappearing Madame Vachelier entered the shop, but she was so pale and agitated that she seemed ready to swoon; this merry, laughing woman, who, according to Doctor Lafrenais, resembled Thalia, wore at this moment an air of gloom and sadness; her lips smiled no longer, her hue was livid, her eyes were surrounded with dark circles. What is the matter, bourgcoise? inquired Regnauld, when she had taken %30 The Roast Partridge. [July, ~ seat near him; I will wager that we have slept poorly. See what it is to go to bed so late. Why, we look hke a little frightened cat. Justine now entered the shop, and approaching the desk at which Mad- ame Vachelier and Jules Regnauld were seated Madame, she said. Well! what is it ? asked Madame Vachelier. It is ready, madame. Ready! what ? What ? cried Jules Regnauld, in a tone of good humor, and drawing out his watch, what? why, breakfast; and it is time, half past eleven; we are late. In a moment, Justine; we will come in a quarter of an hour. NI. Vachelier is at table, said Justine. Let him eat his breakfast, replied Madame Vachelier with a faltering voice, as she retained Jules by the arm, and said to him in a low tone, Let us finish, M. Jules, let us finish; we cannot put off this businesswe cannot defer it until to-morrow; and I think of going out after breakfast. Justine insisted no longer, but left the shop. At the same moment the door opened, and two persons entered. One of them had come to speak of a suit pending before the tribunal of commerce relative to some gums, in the quality of which he declared that he had been deceived. He wished to settle the affair with Madame Vachelier without the expensive intervention of the law. This person addressed himself to the druggists wife. The other was the apothecary on the corner, who, in passing the shop, had re- marked a quantity of manna, which he wished to purchase. Regnauld at once approached the customer. Do not leave the shop, M. Jules, said Madame Vachelier. Oh, no ! replied the travelling clerk. But on the one hand the affair in litigation was long and complicated, and the plaintiff loquacious; while on the other, the sale of the manna re- quired but a word, and the bargain was concluded in a trice. Regnauld ac- companied the apothecary to the door-step, and when once in the street he thought of breakfast, of Mademoiselle Justine, who had come to call them, and without re-entering the shop, he passed into the court, ascended to M. Vacheliers apartments, and after a careless good day to Mademoi- selle Justine, he entered the dining-room, where a most ravishing spectacle awaited him. In the centre of a well-arranged table lay smoking in a silver dish, a roast partridge of the most tempting appearance, which, surrounded by its cuirass of pork, reposed lovingly upon a slice of nut-brown toast, that was half submerged in a sauce as enticing to the sight as to the smell. Be quick, my dear fellow, said M. Vachelier, as soon as he saw Reg- nauld enter the apartment; be quick! This partridge is about to fly away, I warn you ! Put it on your plate, papa Vachelier; stand on no ceremony, you are at home. I will merely trouble you for a thigh, a single little thigh, said Regnauld, taking a chair, and seating himself at table I resign the whole partridge to you, and indeed it is a sacrifice, said Vachelier. In the first place, because my wife had it cooked expressly for me; secondly, because it is so tempting, that if you had not come I should have commenced upon it. Oh, try it ! said Regnauld, with a gesture of encouragement. Try it! No ! replied M. Vachelier; I dined too heartily yesterday; I made a desperate attack upon a haunch of venison; I will breakfast upon nothing but tea. No ceremony, my dear fellow, my wife is not fond of game. (TO BE cOI~TINUEn.) 1S48.} The French Republic. 61 TIlE FRENCJIREPIJIIIIC. THE attention of the civilized world is now fastened upon the progress of republicanism throughout Europe; and the events in Paris, since Febru- ary 2.5th, are of an interest, only equal in importance to those which oc- curred at the close of the last century, upon the same theatre of action. That the overturning of a throne, and the subversion of a government, are not followed by the same disastrous results as in those years of mad excite- ment, is to be ascribed to the dissemination of ideas, then first promulgated, and to the growth of the democratic commercial principles, then first eman- cipated from vassalage to the monarchical military principle. The people having becomeproprietorsof the soil, and measurably independent workmen; having come to enjoy, in a greater degree, the fruits of their own labors, they have learned that national industry and international commerce are the means of l)rivate wealth and individual enjoyment; and that the development of these is incompatible with. a state of xvar, and more desirable than military glory. If they have been forced to overturn an oppressive and corrupt bo- vernment, it was because it pressed too severely upon their rights, and interfered too directly with their personal freedom. They did not however, therefore, lose sight of the importance of peace, or the necessity of main- taining order. In the revolution of 1830, the facility with which the House of Orleans became installed in the government, arose, undoubtedly, from the necessity, felt by all, of having promptly presented some nucleus, around which the true patriots could rally, and preserve, at least, public order and the march of industry unchecked. The constitution then adopted was a step towards popular rights, and it may be questioned, whether re- publicanism was then so deeply rooted as to have stood up against the rude assaults with which it would not have failed to have been visited, bcth frorrt within and without. It is true, the man then called to preside over a great l)eople, betrayed his trusj, and proved eventually his own worst enemy and blind to his own interest; nevertheless, the popular mind made progress under his administration, and when the measure of his iniquities was full, France no longer needed a dynastic head, as a rallying point for the advo- cates of peace and order. The acquired strength of republicanism was found sufficient to support it against all enemies, and the destinies of France were freely committed to the hands of the great people, whom aristocrata have so long insulted by mistrusting their political capacities. The fears, however, entertained, that without some strong point to which to cling, popular passion might drive a people, long accustomed to a parental government, into a state of anarchy, and which were in some degree created by the experience of former scenes, were not altogether unfounded. The first scenes of the Republic ~vere such as to give impulse to natural fears, but the progress of events has developed the soundness of the popu- lar opinion. In considerincr the circumstances which attend the develop- ment of self-government in France, it becomes Americans to remember, that if the government does not, in its incipient state, accord with our ideas of republican principles, nor come up to that standard of constitutional per- fection to which our more enlarged experience has accustomed us, that the integrity of the people is not therefore to be doubted. We are to remem- ber, that the habit of self-government, in this country, began with its settle- ment; that republicanism was sown with the first crops planted by the VOL. xxIII.No. cxxT. 5

1S48.} The French Republic. 61 TIlE FRENCJIREPIJIIIIC. THE attention of the civilized world is now fastened upon the progress of republicanism throughout Europe; and the events in Paris, since Febru- ary 2.5th, are of an interest, only equal in importance to those which oc- curred at the close of the last century, upon the same theatre of action. That the overturning of a throne, and the subversion of a government, are not followed by the same disastrous results as in those years of mad excite- ment, is to be ascribed to the dissemination of ideas, then first promulgated, and to the growth of the democratic commercial principles, then first eman- cipated from vassalage to the monarchical military principle. The people having becomeproprietorsof the soil, and measurably independent workmen; having come to enjoy, in a greater degree, the fruits of their own labors, they have learned that national industry and international commerce are the means of l)rivate wealth and individual enjoyment; and that the development of these is incompatible with. a state of xvar, and more desirable than military glory. If they have been forced to overturn an oppressive and corrupt bo- vernment, it was because it pressed too severely upon their rights, and interfered too directly with their personal freedom. They did not however, therefore, lose sight of the importance of peace, or the necessity of main- taining order. In the revolution of 1830, the facility with which the House of Orleans became installed in the government, arose, undoubtedly, from the necessity, felt by all, of having promptly presented some nucleus, around which the true patriots could rally, and preserve, at least, public order and the march of industry unchecked. The constitution then adopted was a step towards popular rights, and it may be questioned, whether re- publicanism was then so deeply rooted as to have stood up against the rude assaults with which it would not have failed to have been visited, bcth frorrt within and without. It is true, the man then called to preside over a great l)eople, betrayed his trusj, and proved eventually his own worst enemy and blind to his own interest; nevertheless, the popular mind made progress under his administration, and when the measure of his iniquities was full, France no longer needed a dynastic head, as a rallying point for the advo- cates of peace and order. The acquired strength of republicanism was found sufficient to support it against all enemies, and the destinies of France were freely committed to the hands of the great people, whom aristocrata have so long insulted by mistrusting their political capacities. The fears, however, entertained, that without some strong point to which to cling, popular passion might drive a people, long accustomed to a parental government, into a state of anarchy, and which were in some degree created by the experience of former scenes, were not altogether unfounded. The first scenes of the Republic ~vere such as to give impulse to natural fears, but the progress of events has developed the soundness of the popu- lar opinion. In considerincr the circumstances which attend the develop- ment of self-government in France, it becomes Americans to remember, that if the government does not, in its incipient state, accord with our ideas of republican principles, nor come up to that standard of constitutional per- fection to which our more enlarged experience has accustomed us, that the integrity of the people is not therefore to be doubted. We are to remem- ber, that the habit of self-government, in this country, began with its settle- ment; that republicanism was sown with the first crops planted by the VOL. xxIII.No. cxxT. 5 62 The French Repubh~e. [July, white man; that the ballot-box was co-eval with the contribution-box, and both held more sacred than the cartridge-box, which ~vas ever promptly in requi- sition, alike to defend the soil from the aborigines, and political privileges from imperial encroachment; while the cartridge-box settled effectually the political differences with the mother country, and preServEd the contribution- box from her grasp, it never has been appedled to in all the struggles of in- ternal politics; and it has been aptly said by a speaker, at a late popular meeting, under our laws no life has ever been taken for a political of- fence : on the other hand, colonial charters and imperial grants have been supplanted by written constitutions, and these in their turn have been im- proved, as the advance of political science indicated the necessity of reform. Throughout the whole political progress of the people, their physical con- dition has, as a whole, been prosperous beyond precedent, and the univer- sality of education has not been equalled in any other country. The history of France presents no parallel whatever to this state of affairs. At the date of the first revolution, French republicanism was an isolated plant that could not flourish until contiguous territories were cleared of in- fluences inimical to its growth. The mission of Bonaparte, armed with the energy of democratic France, was to purge Europe of its feudality. The aris- tocrats made a desperate struggle, and succeeded for a time in checking the growth of democracy and patching dilapidated thrones, but the impulse given to popular opinion has been undermining the tottering dynasties until the work is complete. While England was striving to put down Napoleon, she was weaving that web of debt which no~v binds her down, and incapacitates her for any great struggle. If the armies of Napoleon did not shake the throne of England directly, as they did those of all the other old countries of Europe, they served the popular cause as well, by loading her with a debt too heavy to allow her to renew the struggle. While the governments have become weaker, and the power and wealth of the middle classes slowly increased, the condition of the great body of the people of France does not seem to have improved. All recent writers agree upon one point, viz: the actual condition of the people, growing out of their destitution, misery, and ignorance. The Communists, Fourierites, and all classes of socialists, build their theories upon it, and the most vigo- ~ous opponents of these visionaries, embracing M. Chevalier, whose exten- sive personal acquaintance with the United States enables him to judge by coml)arison, admit the same facts. To show the prevailing ignorance f the people, the official returns of the census give the population as divided into six classes : 1st, unable to read or write; 2d, can read only; 3d, read and write incorrectly; 4th, do. correctly; 5th, elements of classical education; 6th, complete classical studies. Dividing the occupations of the people into four classes, and applying these grades of instruction, produces the fol- lowing results: IN5TRUCTION OF THE CLASSES OF FRENCH POPULATION. Learned Prof. and Officiale. Ar. Claas. Laborere. Far. and Manutac. Annuitants. and Navy. Total. 1. .15,271,000. - - .881,000 282,000 421,000,.. - .16,855,000 2.. 5.935,000 - -- .758,Ot)0 185,000 219,000.... 7,097,000 3. 5,852,000... .620,000 156,000 340,000.... 6,968,000 4. 875,000... .789,000 330,000 436,000.... 2,430,000 5.. 19,000... .248,000 246,000 222,000... - 735,Ot)0 6. 1,000.... ~ 191.000 77,000. ... 315,00() 27,953,000 3,342,000 1,390,000 1,715,900 34,400,000 The last United States census gave, out of a population of 14,585,227 white persons, 549,9l~5 over 2t~ years who could neither read nor write. This is 1848.] The French Republic. 63 about three per cent., against fifty per cent. in France. The French occupy an area of 12S,000,000 acres,of which 36,000,000 are unpreductive, and the whole is divided among some 1 1,000,000 proprietors, giving about 11 acres to each. These small patches, it appears from the report of the t)irector General of Domains, produce 14 bushels of wheat and 20 bushels of oats to the acre only, and are mortgaged for 11,000,000,000 francs, or $52,062,500,- 000, an incredible sum, on which the interest is not short of $100,000,000 per annum. It further appears from official statistics, that one-eighth of these people are habitually clothed in rags; three-fifths never eat wheat bread; of the staple production, wine, three-fourths of the people never afford to taste; and 10 out of 11 never eat sugar or animal food. From all these statements it results, that of a population of 34,400,000 souls, 2,000,000 only get even common necessaries. These people, thus destitute of the com- forts of life, owe an incredible amount of debt, of ~vhich the leading items are as follows: Government debt 5,757,379,056 Other stocks 2,000,009,000 Mortgages as above - 11,000,000,000 Total francs 1.8,757,379,056 Total in dollars 3,517,008,573 This is equal to the whole British debt, and the interest is not less than $150,000,000, which, with government expenses, makes $300,060,000 per annum, exacted from a people occupying 11 acre lots each. This dreadful state of affairs, the result of long wars and misgovernment, it is which gives rise to the visionary theories of all grades of socialists. The fact of the misery is self-evident, but the remedy is not so plain. It is very evident that the organization of a republican government among 35,000,009, whose physical condition is such as are here described, whose habits, customs, traditions, and to some extent, capacities, are all monarchi- cal, is a very different affair from allowing such a form to expand itself through a period of 200 years, with the increase of a few emigrants upon the soil of America. Sixty years ago, republicanism in France was broach- ed as a new idea among 35,000,000 illiterate people, destitute of the means of information. The press since that time has been muzzled by the court influence, and the free discussion of political subjects prohibited to the peo- pIe. Napoleon, Louis XVIJI., Charles X., each used the utmost of his power to stifle popular intelligence; arid the late miserable king, more than any of his predecessors, strove to prevent the dissemination of knowledge. How lamentably did these people mistake the necessities of a government! a free press is far less directly important to a people, than to a government depen- dant upon popular opinion. The late government of France particularly, used its whole power to destroy those channels of information through which alone the popular sentiment may be discovered. Himself the creature of revolution, borne into power on the shoulders of a pecple, of whose senti- ments Charles X. was ignorant, Louis Phillippe had scarcely occupied the throne before he began to pursue a course hostile to the public interest, and supposed that because he forbade discussion in the public prints, that there- fore there was no public opinion. He dosed, sedul ou~ly, all the avenues by which a knowledge of the people could be reached, and then affected sur- prise when a sudden outbreak discovered him completely isolated from the people he had sought to misgovern. How different has been the policy of England and the United States! It is now 56 years since Washington ira his message remarked: [Juiy~. 64 The French Republic. But here I cannot forbear to recommend a repeal of the tax upon the trans- portation of the public prints. There is no resource so firm for the government of the United States as the affections of the people, guided by an enlightened policy; and to this primary good, nothing can conduce more than a faithful representation of public proceedings, diffused without restraint throughout the United States. The newspapers are the monitors of the government, as well a~ the means of its efficiency. They carry up to the executive the sentiment of a whole people, and diffuse through them in return the policy and course of the Legislature. In great emergencies, no government can act securely without a knowledge of the public sentiment. This has long been understood in England. John Adams, writing from London in 1785, says: Sir: It is time practice of ministers here, when they have in contemplation a project of whose utility, practicability, necessity, expediency, or popularity they are doubtful, to set some writer to compose a pamphlet, or a number of writers to compose paragraphs in the newspapers. The pamphlets are read in the coffee- hmses, and other places, where the politicians assemimle, by the ministerial run- ners, who take down thu observations they hear, and report them to the ministers. This method has l)een tried concerning the admission of American ships and oil, and the une nimous voice was found to be decidedly pronounced gainst it. With all the outrageous tyranny of the English government, at that period and since, there was something like common sense in such a course. Had such an idea ever occurred to the besotted Bourbon race, its members would not successively have lost a throne, wlmich the habits, affinities and traditions of centuries conspired to keep in timeir hands. Among an illite- rate people they have sought to discourage education, and to prevent the formation of a public opinion, which might have becotne the main suil)port of the government in the hour of trial. The government was administered through a system of gross pecuniary corruption; persisted in, in the face of the loudest popular murmurs, and the multiplication of reform banquets dilly becoming mare inimical to the aovernment. That which had long a been suspected by the middle classes, and deplored by the honest portion of the community, was finally proved before the people arid the world, in the conviction of a minister of the crown of receiving bribes in money, for the appointment of persons to office. The stimulus thus giveti to public opin- iou in the direction of reform, instead of warning the government, only confirmed its determination to carry out its disregard of a state of public opinion, of the real nature of which it had no means of forming any cor- rectjuilgment. When the session of the Chambers took place in January, the ministers had a majority of 100, but the march of events was very rapid. The bargaimm and sale of office was brought home, by direct evidence, to the private secretary of M. Guizot, and his strength was shaken. his policy in relation to the Swiss affairs came next under vote, Feb. 3, showing a marked decline of strength. The next vote, Feb. 11, ~vas on a paragraph in the address, in which thuse members who attended the reform banquets were denounced as enemies of their country, and blind to its true interests. This was a personal insult to at least 100 members who had attended those banquets, and the vote, on striking out this paragraph, showed a further loss of nearly one half the ministers majority. M. Sallandronse then su~gested an amendment, that the government should lead in the reforms demanded. This M. Guizot resisted, and the vote showed a further decline. The votes ott these questions were as follows: Swiss question, Banquot paragraph, Feb. a. Feb. 11. Feb. 12. For Minister 206. 228 222 Against .126 185 189 Majority 80 43. .33 1848.] The French Republic. 63 The minister began to waver now that his party ~vas falling away from him. He made vague promises of reform, but he repeated his determination to put down the banquets. The roused opposition, however, defied the minister, and declared their determination to attend the great banquet of Tuesday, Feb. 22, in order to test the right of the people to assemble in a legal manner. The notices for a procession had been out several days, but on Monday, Feb. 21, the minister issued a proclamation, forbidding both the banquet and procession. The procession under these circumstances was not attempted, but the notice was too late to prevent the assemblage of vast multitudes expecting to witness it. Inasmuch, however, as that the procession itself was not attempted, Pie miiiister countermanded an order that had been issued for the troops to occupy the ground, and picquets only were stationed at leading points. The streets were filled with people, but no alarm was manifest. r.t the Bourse the 3 per cts. opened at 73.90 and closed at 74 per cent., an actual advance. In the Chambers, however, three bills of impeachment against ministers were presented, one by Odillon Barrot, another by Duvergier DHaurenne, and a third by Gnoude. The King and his ministers, however, still depended on the new fortifications, 100,000 troops of die line, and his office-holders. He did not, the poor charlatan, consider that his works could not be manned by the royal family ; that the troops were Frenchmen, and would not, for a son of Egalitd, murder the citizens of France, arid that office-holders are more prone to run after a new, than to defend a tottering power. As for the people, he had isolated himself, and had yet to learn his position in rela- tion to them. On Wednesday, Feb. 23, crowds asseni bled early in the morn- ing and formed barricades, which were partially destroyed by the troops. On Tuesday night orders had been given to call out the National Guard, the body which had placed Louis Phillippe on the throne. These appeared in the streets on Wednesday morning, and promptly d dared against him. Thus half the chambers. the people, and the National Guard were in opposition. The troops of the line were the last stake, and these pi~omptly fraternized with the guards arid the people. What did monarchy then do? As soon as it got news, it offered to substitute Count Mok~ for (inizot! This news was cariied to the Chamber by M. Guizot himselfpending a motion to postpone the charge of impeachment to Thursday, which was lost. After a short discussion the Chambers rose, aiid M. Guizot vanished from the Parisian world. He was next seen, March 3d, in an old coat arid with a large pistol, on the road from Dover to London. On Thursday, 24th, an official notice of the appointment of M. Theirs aiid Odillon Barrot as minis- ters appeared, and the troops still under government orders were ~vithdrawn from th~e streets. Against this Marshal Bugeaud protested arid resigned, while the army surrendered its weapons to the people, who speedily surrounded the Tuillenies, having no confidence in either Theirs or Barrot. XVhile the armed people of Paris poured into the royal court.yard, the royal family stood pale and trembling, asking what they should do to be saved. The King abdicated, at the suggestion of some person, in favor of his grand- son, and the whole party dispersed and ran for their lives, at the suggestion of a lient. of National Guards. The stupid old king with his wife on his armn, was recognized in the crowd, amid wished bun voyage with the utmost indifference by the people, who did not think him worth stop- ping, arid he soon found his way to London. While some of the mem- bers of this highly respectable family were hiding their pale faces in slouched hats, arid running down crooked alleys to escape, the Dutchess 41Orleans, with the abdication in one hand, and her son in the other, fol- lowed by two Dukes, was introduced to the Chambers for confirmation. A 66 The French Repuldic. [July, sonorous voice saying, it is too late, sealed their doom at once; and when the people thronged into the hall, the royal party ran out of a side-door, each taking care of himself as best he could, yet no man pursued. With their exit departed royalty, and the government of France re- inained in the hands of its legitimate sovereignsthe people. That people, suddenly released from allegiance to a dynasty, had long yearned for a re- publican form of government; hut under such governments as those with ~vhich they had been oppressed, no healthy and regular public sentiment had been developed. The licentious publications of the theorists had pro- duced great evil, because error was promulgated without a chance for truth to combat it through the freedom of the press. The school- of the social- ists and its subdivisions had given certain men consideration among a class whose confidence they had abused by their meretricious theories. These formed a third distinct party, of which the other two were the legitimists, divided into Carlists and Orleanists, and the Democrats, divided into con- stitutional democrats, who advocate republicanism after the model of the United States institutions, and the extreme radicals, who desire a single legislative body, the members to be chosen directly from the people, with- out senate or executive. These were the leading distinctions of party, modified by the corruption which had pervaded at the court of Louis Phillippe, the large expenditure of which had promoted trade to a certain extent among the shop-keepers of Paris, and the absence of this expendi- ture was likely to tell upon the direction of parties. In forming the pro- visional government, it was necessary at the moment to combine all these parties through their leaders in the cabinet. M. Ledro Rollin, a lawyer, who had married the sister of the Irish exile, Mitchell, had been deputy for Mans, and being subjected by the late government to prosecution for an election speech, became naturally the leader of the extreme radicals. He appears to be a prompt and bold man. No sooner had the Dutchess and her attendants left the Chambers, than he read the names of those who should constitute the provisional government, viz Dupont de lEure, Arago, Lamartine, Ledra Rollin, Gamier Pates, Marie, and Cremieux. These were all received with acclamation. Dupont de lEure is in his 80th year. He had been an actor in the revolution of 178~, and has not ceased to coml)at for republicanism to the present moment. M. Lamartine had recently and opportunely fastened public attention as the historian of the Girondists, and had in the Chamber re1)resented Macon; and, as has been said, was to that body what Edmund Burke ~vas to the Ilouse of Com- mons. M. Cremieux is an Hebrew, a free-trader, arid a man of sound prin- ciples. M. Arago is Secretary of the Academy of Sciences, and known as the systernati c opponent of royal corruption. Gamier T~ages, a su~cessful merchant and staunch liberal, had excited gre~rt hopes of his adherents by his financial talents. These men had an Herculean task before them. They associated as secretaries of the government, M. [VI. Armand Marrast, some twelve years since an escaped political prisoner, flying from the ven- geance of Louis Phillippe; since then, as the editor of the National newspa- per, one of the most formidable enemies of the late government. Also [VII. Louis Blanc, known as the author of Ten years of the reign of Louis Phillippe, a work which, of great authority in regard to events, was niade the vehicle of promulgating his peculiar socialist views, which are allied to the communists; although he has never acted with either sect, and has been opposed by Victor Considerant, the Fourierite leader, who claims Larnartine as his best exponent. Also Ferdinand Flocon, and M. Albert, a workman. It is a little curious how ostentatiously, on all occasions, the name of M. Albert is accompanied by the phrase workman. Suppose 1845.] The French Repuhile. 67 all those of mechanical origin that take part in the governments of the United States were to annex the word workrn an to their names? It would certainly cease to be distinctive. The new government were placed in a difficult position. It had been proclaimed that the new revolution was for the people, a phrase carefully made to designate those who work and have no capital. These de- ananded what was impossible, viz., a prompt realization of the promises held out to them. Royalty was immediately abolisheda Republic proclaimed the right of all to take share in politics declaredthe right of the peo- ple to be employed by governmentabolition of death for political offen- cesabolition of slaveryof the taking of oaths of office by functionaries judicial and administrative. The labor question, as it had been made known by licentious novelists, was one not to be deferred, and the govern- ment decreed a permanent commission of government for workmen. M. Louis Blanc and M. Albert were constituted the commission to sit at the palace of the Luxembourg. It is not necessary to follow this commission into its details. It suffices to say, that after many weeks of labor, it made a report too ridiculous to elicit a single advocate; and when M. Louis Blanc demanded of the National Assembly a ministry of labor, he received not a single vote. The ate/iers nationale, or national work-shops, for the employment of the people, became such a public nuisance, that the chief, Emilie Thomas, was obliged to resign, and the whole establishment of P29,000 employees, was broken up, and e ployment given by the piecethe work to be done before the money shoul aid The provisional government had before it the hard task of preserving its own existence and maintaining the public order at home and peace abroad, until a constituent assembly should be elected by the people. It was natu- ral that a government, composed, as this was, of leaders of factions, should be subject to the eflhrts of each member to give to the whole government the complexion of his own views. Lamartine, in his foreign office, ably carried out his views in relation to the necessity which France had for peace. As minister of the interior, M. Ledru Rollin, sought, even by vio- lent and arbitrary means, to give a radical complexion to the new assembly, and the socialists strove to make their views a component part of the new o vernment policy. When all these conflicting elements were submitted to the alemubic of a general election, the dross disappeared, and there remained the pure metal of the views of the French people. Neither the circular of M. Carnot, minister of public instruction, dis- couraging education as an element of popular representation, nor of Ledra Rollin, directing the suifrages of a free people in the tone of a Russian Ukase, had any very material influence upon the people. They steadily exercised their newly-acquired rights, and returned a democratic assembly. The decree calling for an election of a constituent assembly, was not free from mistakes, and indicated inexperience: * FRENCH REPUBLIC. LIBERTY, EQUALITY, FRATERNITY. The Provisional Government of the Republic, wishing to resi~n as soon as possible into the hands of the Definitive Government the powers it exercises in the interest and by the command of the people: Pecrees, Article 1. The electoral assemblies are convokcd, in cactI district, for the 9th of April next, to elect the representatives of the people in the National Assembly, which is to frame the Constitotion. Article 2. The election shall have the population for its basis Article 3. The total number of the representatives of the people shall be 900, includin~ those of Al~eria and the French Colonies, Article 4. They shall be apportioned by the deputies in ibe proportion indicated in the an- nexed table. 68 The French 1?epu blic. [July, The manner of voting is such as will be corrected, doubtless. Thus, the department of the Seine contains 1,360,000 persons, and elects 34 mem- hers. Instead of apportioning this into 34 districts, each electing a meni- her, every elector in the district votes for 34 men. We have yet had no authentic return of the number of voters registered for the department, but as the right of suffrage is general, it is easily approximated. Thus, in the State of New-York, according to the census of 1845, the population was 2,604,515; free white males over 21 years, 639,027; voters, 539.009; showing an allowance of 100,000 for those incapacitated by disease, & c. This proportion for the department of Paris would give 319,513 males over 21, and 269,504 voters. The city of New-York has 371,223 inhaiitants, of ~vhom 63,927 were voters according to the census of 1845. The same proportion for the department of the Seine, would give 251,708 voters. The highest number of votes given for one man was, it appears, for La- roartine 259,300, or actually 8,000 votes more than the number of voters to the same population in New-York. We may now make a table of the num- ber of voters and votes cast in New-York and Paris. Less than More tisass Populatioss. Voters. Votes cast. voters, voters. State of N. York.. .2,604;515. ~539,009. .. .487,83. .. .51,726... - City of N. York.. .371,223 63,927 54,698 9,229.... Depart. of Seine.. .1,360,000... .251,708... .259,300.... 7,592 This vote for New-York state and city was given at the gubernatorial elec~ tion of 1844, and was the highest vote ever cast in the state. The vote of the state in 1846 was 405,000. These figures show that so far from there hav- ing been any supineness at the polis, the number of votes cast is immense, when we consider the difficulty of registering and composing the lists, and it is evident Lamartine combined the whole strength of the department. The inequality of the rights of voters which this singular system involves, may be estimated by taking two departments. The Seine having the highest population, each of its voters has 34 votes. The department of the Eastern Pyrenees has but 160,000 inhabitants, consequently each votes for four men, while him of Paris votes for 34. Yet the decree regulating this matter has a motto of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity ! Article 5. The suffrage shall be direct end universal. Article 6. All Frenchmen, 21 years of age, having resided in the district during six months, end not judicially deprived of or suspended in the exercise of their civil ri0hts, are electors. Article 7. All Frenchmen, 25 years of age, and not judicially deprived of or suspended in the exercise of their civic rights, are eli0ible. Article 8. The ballot shall ha secret. Article 9. All the electors shall vote in the chief towns of their district, by ballot. Each bulletin shall contain as many names as there shall be representatives to elect in the depart- ment. No man can be named a representative of the people unless he obtain 2,000 sulfra~es Article 10. Every representative of the people shall receive an indemnity of 2Sf per day daring the session. Article 11. An instruction of the Provisional Government shall regulate the mode of exeen- tion of the present decree. Article 12. The Constituent National Assembly shall be opened on the 20th of April. Article 1:3. The present decree shall be immediately sent to the departments, published and posted up in all the districts of the Republic. Done at Paris, jO the Government Council, on the 5th of March, 1818. The members of the Provisional Govessesnant, G.wNsEa PAGES, ]IILPONT ISE LEtJaE, .ARMANO MARRAST, CRE5CtECTx, ARAno, Louts BeAxe, Aaaaar, Lscoau RoaLtx, MARIE, FLocox, LAMARTINE. The Secretary-General of the Provisional Government, PAGUERRE. 1848.] The French Republic. 69 It appears from the results, that while a few thousand men were, by their clamor and silly threats of counter-revolution, giving a meretricious Impor- tance to the radical members of the government, and seeking to force the provisional government into extreme measures, the great body of the peo- ple were coolly and quietly looking on, preparing to express an opinion at the polls which should at once steady the course of government. When seditious men stirred up a dangerous physical demonstration, the friends of republicanism rallied to their support, and frowned down an attempt at an- archy. The first meeting of the Chamber is auspicious, and we have con- fidence in the wisdom of their measures. In accordance with this decree, the constituent assembly was elected without tumult, and resulted in returning the moderate members of the Provisional Government by great majorities. Lamartine received near 3,500,000 votes. In May, 1804, precisely 44 years previously, the same people, in the enjoyment of the right of free suffrage, cast 3,577,3~29 for Bonaparte, as hereditary Emperor of the French, and %569 against him. This is the largest number of votes ever cast by a people in favor of one man, and indicates the popularity with which the brilliant exploits of the great soldier surrounded his person. The population of France has since considerably increased, and the vote in favor of Lamartine, the apostle of republican peace, is nearly as large as that in favor of him whose sword, by hewing down the hereditary opponents of popular representation, cleared the way for Lamartines more peaceful genius. The socialist and radical members stood very low on the list. In consequence of the difficulty of canvassing such a number of ballots, the opening of the assembly was post- poned until May 5th, when it niet and organized. On the 6th, the Provis- ional Government rendered up an account of its doings in a report from each Minister, including Louis Blanc. On the 9th of May the question came up as to the manner in which the new government should be ap- pointed. M. Peupin, Reporter of the Committee, commenced by stating that two principal propositions had been made. The first was, to appoint a Coin- mnittee of five representatives, who should name the ministers and direct the government. The second was, to name directly, by ballot, the ministry individually, with a President of the Cabinet without a portfolio; this en- tire Cabinet to form an Executive Council, responsible to the Assembly. Ihe report concluded in favor of the latter proposition. After some remarks from 1~1. Laniartine, the vote stood: For the Ministry tu be appointed by an Executive Committee 411 For tbe Ministry to be appointed by the Chamber direct 315 Majority 26 On the following day the Chamber balloted for the ~Executive Committee, and the results were as follows: Number of votes. ...794. Absolute majority 398. M. At-ago ot)tained 725 f M. Lainartine 643 1\l. Gamier Pages ....715 I M. Ledru Rollin 458 M. Marie 702 I Here was a sincrular result. M. Lamartine no longer had the lead in popularity, having injured his position by attempting to shield M. Ledru- liollin from the consequences of his own violent and arbitrary conduct. On the 15th the Executive Committee named the new government as follows: Foreign AffairsBastide. I CommerceFlocon. WarC horras. / ReligionBethmont. FinanceDuclerc. Public WorksTrglat. JusticeCremieux. I MarineCasey. InstmuctioaCarnot. InteriorRecurt. 70 The French Republic. [July, Thus the Executive Committee, which directs the government, is com- posed of the leading members of the Provisional Government, while Louis Blanc and Albert were left out altogether. The people were, however, by no means disposed to submit to this ex- clusion, and, possessed of the elements of power, a formidable attempt at counter-revolution was made on the 15th May, when the Assembly was forced, and the mob, taking possession of the hall, proclaimed a new pro- visional government, including Ledru Rollin and Louis Blanc; but on the arrival of the troops, dispersed, and the Chamber resumed its sitting. This attempt was followed by many arrests, Ledru Rollin and Louis Blanc in- cludedthe former being bailed by Lamartine. The complicity of Louis Blanc with the conspiracy was subsequently established, but the Chamber refused to impeach him. This event has given great stability to the new order of thin~s, and the sittings progress amidst gradually increasing confidence. 1 ne committee on the constitution is composed of much intellect and experience. Barrot and De Tocqueville are of the number. The favorite project thus far appears to be a President, one Chamber and a Council for the Government, to be choseia by universal and direct suffrage, every three years; that the Judges, Mayors, and their adjuncts, the general and mimi- cipal councils, and all the principal civil officers will be chosen for the same time and in the same manner; as also the officers of the National Guard. It will be the duty of the Council of State to prepare the laws to be submit- ted to the Chamber. We have thus sketched the leading features of the French revolution, from its sudden outbreak down to its apparent establishment under an As- sembly elected by the people, and firmly protected against any of those at- tempts at counter-revolution that formerly were so successful and so fraught with mischief. The great safe-guard of the present republic, lies in the fact that the middle classes have made great progress since the first revolution. They now hold the balance of power, and rally promptly to the support of the government of the people against the attack of a mob, who have not yet learned the first rudiments of republicanism, viz., to respect the will of the majority. The instrument by which reckless demagogues have sought to stir upon the unthinking portion of the people has been socialism. As far as there is anything practicable in the ideas engendered by any of the schools of what is called the new philosophy, there is nothing different from what has been carried in the United States politically to the greatest extent. The essential characteristics common to all these theories is association, or mutual co-operation for the interests of all. This idea is by no means now inoperative; it is, in fact, the leading distinctive feature between society as it exists in the United States and in Europe. In this country every department of life and society is conducted on the principles of asso- ciation. All the governments and magistrates are elected by the associa- tion of great political parties, co-operating and subscribing money to effect the object. The financial affairs have always been conducted by banking associations ; manufactures, for the most part, are established in the same manner. Colleges, taverns, churches, roads, steamboats, tract societies, Bible societies, hospitals, prisons, schoolsall are founded and conducted on principles of association. If any great truth is to be promulgated or moral lesson inculcated, it is done by association. Not only are all the great undertakings and every public matter conducted in this mnanner, but private families are organized upon it in a manner and to a degree utterly unknown in Europe. The Astor House, with its several hundred inmates, 1848] The French Republic. 71 is entirely a socialist establishment for strangers and for wealthy families. From that concern down to the must humble boarding-house for appren- tices and mechanics, the plan of association for families is carried out, by which mutual co-operation enables them to live well, for a sum that in an isolated state would scarcely allow them to subsist at all. Nearly all single people, and many married ones, probably half the whole l)opulation of our cities, live in this associated manner, utterly unknown to Europeans, and the result is, more enjoyment by those who labor for the same money. How many females that sew are boarded well for some $1 50 per week, a sum which, in the European manner of living, would scarcely keep them alive. The socialists of Europe have some vague notion that the condition (if a people may be improved by some such plan. They have therefore built up fanciful theories of the reorganization of society, that embrace the most disgusting immorality and licentiousness. As if, because a co- operation of means lightens the physical coiidition, that therefore a co-ope- ration of vices would lessen the burden of iniquity. Nothing so niuch astonishes the reflective foreigner as the wonderful re- suIts of the association principle in the United States. The remarks of that eminent man, De Tocqueville, who is happily associated on the com- mnittee for the new constitution of France, are most imistructive upon this point. Those associations only which are formed in civil life, without reference to political objects. are here adverted to. The political associations which exist in the United States are only a single feature in the midst of the immense assem- blage of associations in that country. Americans of all ages, all conditions and all dispositions, constantly form associations. I met with several kinds of associations in America, of which I confess I had no pre~1ous notion; and I have often admired the extreme skill with which the inhabi- tants of the United States succeed in proposing a common object to the exertions of a great many men, and in getting them voluntarily to pursue it. I have since travelled over Enghtnd, whence the Americans have taken sonie of their laws and niany of their custom~s ; and it seemed to me that the principle of association was by no means so constantly or so adroitly used in that country. The English often perform great things singly; whereas the Americans form associa- tions for the smallest undertakings. It is evident that the former people consider association as a powerful means of action, hut the latter seem to regard it as the only means they have of acting. A government might perform the part of some of the largest American com- panies and several states, members of the Union, have already attempted it: but what political power could ever carry on the vast multitude of lesser un- dertakings which the Amnericaa citizens perform every day, with the assistance of the principle of association? It is easy to foresee that the time is drawing near when man will be less and less able to produce, of himself alone, the commonest necessaries of life. As soon as several of the inhabitants of the United States have taken up an opinion or a feeling which they wish to promote in the world, they look out for mutual assistance; and as soon as they have found each other out, they combine. From that moment they are no longer isolated men, but a power seen from afar, whose actions serve for an example, and whose language is listened to. The first time I heard in the United States that a hundred thousand men had bound them- selves publicly to ahstain from spirituous liquors, it appeared to me more like a joke than a serious engagement; and I did not at once perceive why these tempe- rate citizens could not content themselves with drinking water hy their own fire- sides. I at last understood that these hundred thousand Americans, alarmed by the progress of drunkenness around them, had made up their minds to patronise temperance. They acted just in the same way as a man of high rank who should dress very plainly, in order to inspire the humbler orders with a contempt of lux- ury. It is probable that if these hundred thousand men had lived in France, each of them would singly have memorialized the government to watch the public houses all over the kingdom. The French Republic. [July, Nothing, in my opinion, is more deserving of our attention than the intellec- tual and moral associations of America. The political and industrial associations of that country strike us forcibly; but the others elude our observation, or if we discover them, we understand them imperfectly, because we have liardly ever seen anything of the kind. Jt must, however, be acknowledged that they are as neces- sary to the American people as the former, and perhaps more so. In democratic countries the science of association is the mother of science: the pro- gress of all the rest depends upon the progress it has made. This association which so astonished this profound thinker, has always existed in the United States, and has been the chief cause of our prosperity as a nation, and of our happiness as a people. That this science of associa- tion, is making progress even in this country is undeniablean evidence of it is in the progress of constitutional reform. The evils and corruptions that flow from the old plan of charterino associations, produced reform, and general laws now permit people to associate for any purpose whatsoever, without necessity of special legislation. This is a step in the progress of association. Yet while these great results are being produced and the whole community is influenced in a greater or less degree, by the operation of the association principle, a few licentious followers of the dreams of French theorists, talk of association as of some strange and heretofore unheard of discovery, of which they alone possess the secret. They so in- volve it in infidelity and lewdness, as to disguise, even from themselves, the fact, that while the principle was in active and soccessful operation on this continent, long before tIe theory was promulgated in Europe, they have neglected its practical teachitigs, and clung only to the dreamy imagittings of the theorists there. It is for this reason that all attempts to form associa- tions on the plan of Fourier have failed; not one of his adherents under- stands the economical principles on which the only practical portion is based. As thus, a few mistaken persons in New-York subscribed a capital by which a Phalanx was formed in Roxhury, Massachusetts. This was peopled by persons ~vithout revenues, marcy of whom adopted occupations that pro- duced none to the concern. A literary gentleman, as an instance, becamime a waiter in the establishment; as if persons, so situated, could not help themselves.~ As a matter of course, as soon as the contributed capital was expended, these persons who had isolated themselves from society, in order to carry out the principles of association, were compelled again to go into the general system of association, in order to get a living. It is obvious that they began at the wrong end. Had those persotcs each had a produc- tive occupation, yielding him a revenue, and had clubbed those revenues in the establishing of a place of residence for all their families, somethin~ like the plan would have been commenced. This might then have been ultimately increased by the admission of new productive members, until the imiternal af- fairs of the concern would find mutual employment for its productive members. It then ~vould become gradually isolated from the rest of the comtnummity, which is now becoming daily more associative. The establishmetits that most nearly approach the practical part of a Fourierite Phalanx, are the slave plantations of the south, in which cotton is produced by the associa- tion of several hundred blacks, living together in tIme promiscuous manner that the theorists allege conduces to the greatest happiness. Their rows of huts, their common nurseries, their common hospitals, are hut a phalanx. Their general support from the proceeds of the common industry, the dis- regard of marital rights and fancily ties, are all Fourienite features; and the great increase of slaves, as compared with whites, would go to prove their beneficial effects. In France there is nothing of all the associative action which so won 1848.] Loiterings in Europe. the admiration of M. de Tocqueville in America; nor anything of the pro- duction of great staples by the combined industry of any class of people. The whole country is divided into small isolated parcels of land, while all industry is isolated under a government which has sought to do everthing for the people, and to allow none of them to act for themselves, collectively or singly. Tue first great association in France is that of the people at the late election. From that era political and social association will coti- tinl]e to increase, until the habit of association is acquired ; and the social condition of the people, through its means, raised nearer to a level of that in the United States. LOITERINGS IN EIJROIPE.* IN our juvenile years, we delighted to listen to tales of giants, who got over the ground wonderfully fast in their ten or twenty league hoots. Since we have become adults, and have turned from the romantic to the actual, it has seemed to us, that the bustling and sketchy traveller, who gives us in a single volume the results of a tour on the continent, or elsewhere, with manifold observations upon things visible and contemplative, furnishes us with the winged heels of mercury, and enables us in a day, to scan the vast panorama over which he has toilsomely plodded. Men conceive that in actual speed, the magnetic telegraph is the acme of human achievement; and yet, the decision of the philosopher of old, (we think Thales,) will be found not less correct than in his own time. When asked what was the fleetest of human things, he replied, thought, for that in an instant can traverse the bounds of the universe.~ Let the mechanism of science effect what it will, in aid of social development, still the winged thoughts of the poet, historian, and traveller, will bring remote places and people, with all their thoughts, fancies, and ideas, to every fireside. We enjoy voyages at borne, in the qtiiet of the study, free frcm hardships and peril. We measure the altitude of mountains. We revel amid vener- able ruins, and do not shrink from the lizard and the serpent. We survey the Coliseumn by moonlight, and feel the added sublimity of the poetry of Byron. We look down from Mount Blanc upon the vale of Chamouni, and sing, with out shivering, the magnificent hymn of Coleridge. There may be too much of fancy and too little of fact in these ohserva- tions to restrain many who have a rovers disposition, from sea-sickness, leg-weariness, and a thousand impositions in the ordinary desire to see the world. Well, let them go; and yet, in nine cases out of ten, after all is over, they will like the narrative of their experiences better than the expe- riences themselves. Not to speak of the bitter trials, and tragical fate of the Cookes, Parkes, amid Ledyards, did ever a traveller, from the days of Sterie, run the gauntlet of the continent, without feeling that lie had a story to tell quite as bad as that of the black-a-vised Othello, who, upon thi& credit of having been a few hundred miles from Morocco, and of having read the Arabian nights, charmed Desdemona into lcve with his extrava- ganzas about antres vast and deserts idle, And the anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. * Loiterings in Europe; or, Sketches of Travel in France, Be~gium, Switzerland, Italy, Austria. Prossia, Great Britain, and Ireland; with an Appendix, contaiuing observations on Ear pean Charities and Melical Institutions. By John W. t3orson, M. D.

1848.] Loiterings in Europe. the admiration of M. de Tocqueville in America; nor anything of the pro- duction of great staples by the combined industry of any class of people. The whole country is divided into small isolated parcels of land, while all industry is isolated under a government which has sought to do everthing for the people, and to allow none of them to act for themselves, collectively or singly. Tue first great association in France is that of the people at the late election. From that era political and social association will coti- tinl]e to increase, until the habit of association is acquired ; and the social condition of the people, through its means, raised nearer to a level of that in the United States. LOITERINGS IN EIJROIPE.* IN our juvenile years, we delighted to listen to tales of giants, who got over the ground wonderfully fast in their ten or twenty league hoots. Since we have become adults, and have turned from the romantic to the actual, it has seemed to us, that the bustling and sketchy traveller, who gives us in a single volume the results of a tour on the continent, or elsewhere, with manifold observations upon things visible and contemplative, furnishes us with the winged heels of mercury, and enables us in a day, to scan the vast panorama over which he has toilsomely plodded. Men conceive that in actual speed, the magnetic telegraph is the acme of human achievement; and yet, the decision of the philosopher of old, (we think Thales,) will be found not less correct than in his own time. When asked what was the fleetest of human things, he replied, thought, for that in an instant can traverse the bounds of the universe.~ Let the mechanism of science effect what it will, in aid of social development, still the winged thoughts of the poet, historian, and traveller, will bring remote places and people, with all their thoughts, fancies, and ideas, to every fireside. We enjoy voyages at borne, in the qtiiet of the study, free frcm hardships and peril. We measure the altitude of mountains. We revel amid vener- able ruins, and do not shrink from the lizard and the serpent. We survey the Coliseumn by moonlight, and feel the added sublimity of the poetry of Byron. We look down from Mount Blanc upon the vale of Chamouni, and sing, with out shivering, the magnificent hymn of Coleridge. There may be too much of fancy and too little of fact in these ohserva- tions to restrain many who have a rovers disposition, from sea-sickness, leg-weariness, and a thousand impositions in the ordinary desire to see the world. Well, let them go; and yet, in nine cases out of ten, after all is over, they will like the narrative of their experiences better than the expe- riences themselves. Not to speak of the bitter trials, and tragical fate of the Cookes, Parkes, amid Ledyards, did ever a traveller, from the days of Sterie, run the gauntlet of the continent, without feeling that lie had a story to tell quite as bad as that of the black-a-vised Othello, who, upon thi& credit of having been a few hundred miles from Morocco, and of having read the Arabian nights, charmed Desdemona into lcve with his extrava- ganzas about antres vast and deserts idle, And the anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. * Loiterings in Europe; or, Sketches of Travel in France, Be~gium, Switzerland, Italy, Austria. Prossia, Great Britain, and Ireland; with an Appendix, contaiuing observations on Ear pean Charities and Melical Institutions. By John W. t3orson, M. D. Loiterings in Eu rope. [July, But this is all rather distantly pertinent to the travellers book we desire to present to the readers notice. ft is full of picturesque descriptions of scenery, and faithful delineations of institutions, characters and objects, met with in a diversified journey, beginning at Havre, and compassing Paris, Rome, Vienna, Venice, Genoa, Florence, indeed, all the principal cities of attraction in Europe, ending with England, Scotland, and Ireland. The writer has the eye of a painter and the taste of a scholar; and we think those who peruse the extracts we present, will agree with us that cities, countries, and institutions, and people, have rarely been sketched by so skilful a draughtsman. Dr. Corson is a practising physician, and this book furnishes evidence that he had a further and higher object in his travels, than that of furnish- ing merely an entertaining narrative, The papers on European charities arid Medical Institutions, are full of profitable and philanthropic suggestions. The volume is no less a valuable offering to the medical profession than to literature. We freely commend it to the re~ding community, whose ap- petite may be sharpened by a few scraps from its ample stores of instruction and entertainment FROM THE PREFAcE. The writer has, from the first, firmly resolved to be good-natured. The peace interests of the world, and the softening of national prejudices, seem to re- quire that the foibles of every people should be dwelt upon and reproved rather by their own ceuntrymen than by strangers. We justly complain of certain foreign- ers, who repaid our best hospitalities with libels on our political and social institu- tions. The writer prefers erring, if at all, on the side of charity. He is willing to forego the credit for patriotism gained by abusing our neighbors. He saw, eve- rywhere, more to praise than to blame; and, in looking at things on the bright side, he only followed the golden rule. A FRENCH DILIGENcE. An intelligent American Indian, who lately visited Paris, in describing a dili- gence to a friend in England, stated that it was a great animal that carried sixteen persons: three in the head, three in the breast, six in the body, and four in the tail, referring, in order, to the banquette, coup6, interior, and rotonde. The four wheels answering to feet, it should, of course, be classed among the quadrupeds. Just imagine an ordinary Broadway omnibus, somewhat lengthened, with the leather top and seat of a huge gig extending transversely across the reef, in front, for the banquette, and unequally divided below into three separate compart- ments, and you have the tamer representation of a deteriorated civilized citizen, Of the places above mentioned, the coupe, or lower front, is the dearest, and the rotonde, or rear, the cheapest. This apparently unwieldy affair is usually drawn by five or six horses, with three abreast in front, at the rate of from seven to nine miles an hour, The horses are changed about once an hour in the short space of three or four minutes, and away you rattle over hill and dale, to the constant crack of the ~vhip. THE SEINE. The Seine is a thoroughly French river, full of beauties and full of capri- cious changes. Sometimes it flows as gently as the stream of a terrestrial para- dise, restrained by the conservative banks into quite peaceable limits; and then, as helow Quillebinuf, with an aqueous outbreak, it suddenly expands to four or five times its former width. Occasionally it glides in a straight direction , as if, like a perspicuous speaker, it were coming to a point; and then, with a circuit of miles, it returns to near the same spot, as though with national fondness it was deter- mined on going back to Paris. Now it modestly courses along in a single chan- nel, and anon, in showy Parisian taste, it takes a fancy to decorate itself with a 1848.] Loiterings in Europe. 75 range of little fairy islands. And then, to carry out the figure, even its tiny steamers seem to bow their pipes at the bridges with true French politeness. It is navigable to Ronen for vessels of two hundred and fifty tons. PARIS. At length we passed a line of fortifications; the houses began to thicken, and we ~vere suddenly released, amid a multitude of strange sights and sounds, in the busy cnpital. There were carriages, with servants in splendid liveries; easy- swinging hacks, like a large, old-fashioned physicians gig; and carts, with ha- mense wheels, drawn by two or thi-ee horses in single file, whose large, shaggy collars, and low heads, gave them, at a distance, the appearance of a cross of the bison; files of soldiers marching to the monotonous music of a drum ; tidily- dressed females, in ordinary life, swarming the streets, without hats; itinerant musicians, giving cheap concerts by machinery; vend ers of little fancy wares, and rosy-cheeked flower girls; worn-out veterans, hobbling along in the fierce- looking military chapeau, with the red i-ibbon of the legion of honoi- on the hi-east of the comfortable blue coat; exquisites I)rOmenading the fashionable streetsall in a style peculiar to this city of cities. The first impression of a stranger can s caicely be but favorable. Almost every object wears a lively charm. rfhe streets are, indeed, with few exceptions, badly paved and drained, and so nan-ow that you are compelled to seek apartments as near the clouds as possible, to get the fresh air; and the irregularly high houses are neai-ly all of a smoky, tawny hue outside; but there is so much of refined elegance in the aichitectural decoi-ations, so much that you meet to admire in every walk, that you foIget any faults in the picture. We are apt to receive cx- aggei-ated impressions of the peculiarities of every people at a distance. There was much less of gaudiness, and far more of richness and neatness in the exter- nal aspect of things than I had anticipated. A French lustre is, indeed, visible every where, but it is a biilliancy developed by the most exquisite taste. One might almost write a dissertation on the attractions of a Parisian shop-window. The artistic talent that, with such nice attention to perspective, arranges die mir- rors and gilding, so elegantly folds the drapery, anil so skillfully brings into play innumerable othei- devices, is, indeed, truly wonderful. This delicate sense of the beautiful seems to pervade the whole population. It is visible in their taste- fully-adjusted diess, their easy, giaceful carriage, and fascinating manners. With much justice, pem-haps, it has been attributed to the eflbct produced by their con- stantly frequenting the public gardens, museums, and palacestheir familiarity with the perfect foims embodied in painting and statuai-y, and the combined charms of nature and art, that in so enlightened a spirit nie here made fi-eely ac- cessible for the gratification and imptovement of all ranks, from the peasant to the prince. Another feature that strikes you in your first walk is the easy cheerfulness depicted in evely face you umeet. There is more of philosophy in this than we dream. He who has taught the sun to shine, the flowers to bloom, and the birds to sing, doubtless never intended that his creatures should be always sad. There is none of the pride in the port, defiance in the eye, or melancholy of some of his Anglican neighbors about the true Parisian; and nothing of the sharpened, anxious expression of our American victims of the money-fever you meet emerg- ing from a ten minutes lunch in the neighborhood of Wall-street. lie seems evely where leisuiely enjoying himself. ENGLI5H PiiEAcHIr~e IN PARIS. Close to the Madeleine, as you walk down the right-hand side of the Rue Royale, you notice the inscription, Weslcyan Chapel. You enter. They are singing in your native tongue, an air that you have heard in many a worshipping assembly far away. A venerable minister with white locks is peering through his glasses. Presently, in a pleasing, earnest manner, he enfoices some leading religious truth. When service is over, you step forward perhaps, and, with the slightest inti-od uction, you receive a cordial greeting. You have been listening to the Rev. Mr. Toase. 76 Loiterings in Europe. [July, Some twenty-four missionaries, including one or two in French-Switzerland, are now laboring successfully among the French population, under the auspices of the excellent Wesleyan Missionary Society of London. ~tllE TUILLERIES AND LOUIS PHILIPPE. Near sunset we moved onward with the masses till we came in front of the Palace of the Tuilleries. As you approach, the view of the front, on account of its great width and turreted pavilions, is very grand. It is in the style of the six- teenth century, having been built princpally by Catherine de Medicis. It will he recollected that it was in attempting to defend this place that the Swiss guards were so fearfully massacred on the memorable 10th of August, 1792. Over the passage, under the middle pavilion, there is a halcony~ To this the eyes of the vast multitude were intently directed. At length the door opened, and the king stel)ped forward, raised his hat, and courteously and repeatedly bowed. For the first time in my life I heard the celebrated cry of Vive le roi, and from an im- mense orchestra, placed in front, burst forth the Marseillaise, followed by the Parisienne. The king and queen kept saluting the assemblage continually; and his grandson, the Count do Paris, a sprightly lad of some eight years, who is heir to the throne, forgetting to raise his cap, the king turned and reminded him of it by a gentle touch of the hand. He looked exceedingly well, being, as most are aware, of a medium height, rather full figure and face, with an easy, dignified hearing, and still appearing to retain considerable of the vigor of a green old age. The attempt upon his life, by Le Compte, just previous, added interest to the occasion. ON THE LOIRE. By far the most care seemed bestowed upon the cultivation of the great staple production of this regionthe grape. This, perhaps, is stimulated by the rivalry arising from the circumstance that the wine of each locality, and often of each separate establishment, has an individual character, known in the market, by which, in proportion to its quality, the price is regulated. All the southern expo- sures were covered with vineyards. The vines are planted about two feet apart, and trimmed annually to within a few inches of the ground. Early in the spring shoots pot forth, the earth between is kept fresh and clean, and occasionally dug over, somewhat in the same way as in the cultivation of Indian corn. Small sticks, two or three feet high, are placed as a support to each vine. At the time of our visit, the shoots were about the height of a large currant-bush. ARTESIAN WELLS. The municipal council of Paris, finding that a scarcity of water existed, upon the recommendation of competent geologists, authorized, in 1832, the ex- periment of sinking one of these wells in the Abattoire do Grenelle. M. Mulot, to whom the contract was at length given, commenced boring on the 30th of No- vember, 1833, and in two years succeeded in penetrating to the specified depth of four hondied metres, Without the desired result. At the earnest repre- sentations of M. Arago, who with wonderful accuracy had previously predicted that it would be necessary to descend several hundred feet farther, an additional grant was obtained, and ohierations were continued. The most discoura~ing acci- dents occurred, requiring months for their repairthe municipality grew dis- couraged and stopped the fundsbut, at the risk of ruin, M. Mulot courageously involved his own fortune, when at last, after a period of seven years from the comm?ncement, and from a depth of eighteen hundred feet, a full stream gushed violently forth. The water is confined in a tube of galvanized iron supported by scaffolding, and rises more than a hundred feet from the ground. At this height the rate of discharge is three hundred gallons per minute, and the force is calculated to be sufficieut to si~pply more than twice that quantity at the surface. Upon placing roy ear upovi the tube there was a vibratory whizzing sensation; from the rapid motion of the fluid within. The water, of which I before intimated I had the benefit of drinking, is extremely pure and soft, and comes up at the temperature of about eighty-four degrees of Fahrenheit, or a little less than blood-heat. R848.] Finan cia! and Commercial Review. 77 FINANCIAL AND COUIERCIAL REVIEW. THE chief feature. of the month has been the continued exportation of the precious metals to Europe, in amounts calculated to excite alarm as to the future. The movement was however checked towards the close of the month by the taking of the government loan of $16,000,000, partly on foreign account directly, and partly with a view to hypothe- cation. The hills based on this operation affected the prices of exchange to a considera- ble extent. The following table, distinguishing the descriptions of coins, gives the amount exported from this port direct, from May 1st to the close of the last week EXPORT OF SPECIE FROM THE PORT OF NEW-YORK, MAY 1 TO JUNE 1. Foreign. U. States, To Geld. Silver. Gold. Silver. Total. England $693365 401,83-2 66,410 15,075 --.1,176,682 France 280,414....... 457,658 218,814 593,429 1,550,315 Other ports.. - .32,830 10,443..~ 69,000. 103,28 Total 1,066,609... ....-.869,945 285,224 668,504 2,830,28 The exports from November to May 1st, were near $6,000,000, nearly all foreign coins, and as the supply on the spot here became diminished, the prices rose, bringing in from the country in increasing amounts. From all sections of the country specie flows in, and much from abroad; nevertheless, the importance of the flow abroad is such as to make the future gloomy. Many of the banks are by no means so strong in specie as they would have the public believe. It is undoubtedly true that enormous sums come in in the hands of emigrants. A portion of this is sold to bullion brokers, but the great bulk of it goes west in the hands of those who brought it over. It is there slowly dis. horsed for laud and necessaries, and gradually finds its way back to the seaboard, filter- ing through the channels of trade. In this way only can be accounted for the large sup- ply of multifarious descriptions of foreign coins that continue upon the market. The importation of specie last year was $24,000,000, and through the activity of the depart. ment. an equal amount was coined into United States money.. The export of foreig coins since November has been over $8,000,000, and yet the supply co tinues fair, it is true, at high prices, but still the coins are here, while the operation of the Mint continues to be equal to all that arrives, as reported through the Custom House; from which it would appear that the amount not so reported is far more important than is usually sue. posed. The number of emigrants that have arrived in five months of five years is as follows EMIGRANTS ARRIVED AT PORT OF NEW-YORK. 1844. 1845. 1846. 1847. 1848. January 662 1,298 1,019 4,427 7,3~s February 727 450 571 3,360 3,49w March... 712 .2,677 3.770 2,095 4,392 April 3,372 5,205 6,256 21,412 15,927 May 5,823 10,662 16,772 27,643 35,161 Total 11,296 .20,292~ .. . - - - .28,388 ----58,937 66,37. An average of $100 each would give near $6,637,000 arrived since January, equal to the whole nett export as reported officially. The movement of specie to and from the United States, has, in the past four years, been as follows VOL. XXHI.NO. CXXI. 6

R848.] Finan cia! and Commercial Review. 77 FINANCIAL AND COUIERCIAL REVIEW. THE chief feature. of the month has been the continued exportation of the precious metals to Europe, in amounts calculated to excite alarm as to the future. The movement was however checked towards the close of the month by the taking of the government loan of $16,000,000, partly on foreign account directly, and partly with a view to hypothe- cation. The hills based on this operation affected the prices of exchange to a considera- ble extent. The following table, distinguishing the descriptions of coins, gives the amount exported from this port direct, from May 1st to the close of the last week EXPORT OF SPECIE FROM THE PORT OF NEW-YORK, MAY 1 TO JUNE 1. Foreign. U. States, To Geld. Silver. Gold. Silver. Total. England $693365 401,83-2 66,410 15,075 --.1,176,682 France 280,414....... 457,658 218,814 593,429 1,550,315 Other ports.. - .32,830 10,443..~ 69,000. 103,28 Total 1,066,609... ....-.869,945 285,224 668,504 2,830,28 The exports from November to May 1st, were near $6,000,000, nearly all foreign coins, and as the supply on the spot here became diminished, the prices rose, bringing in from the country in increasing amounts. From all sections of the country specie flows in, and much from abroad; nevertheless, the importance of the flow abroad is such as to make the future gloomy. Many of the banks are by no means so strong in specie as they would have the public believe. It is undoubtedly true that enormous sums come in in the hands of emigrants. A portion of this is sold to bullion brokers, but the great bulk of it goes west in the hands of those who brought it over. It is there slowly dis. horsed for laud and necessaries, and gradually finds its way back to the seaboard, filter- ing through the channels of trade. In this way only can be accounted for the large sup- ply of multifarious descriptions of foreign coins that continue upon the market. The importation of specie last year was $24,000,000, and through the activity of the depart. ment. an equal amount was coined into United States money.. The export of foreig coins since November has been over $8,000,000, and yet the supply co tinues fair, it is true, at high prices, but still the coins are here, while the operation of the Mint continues to be equal to all that arrives, as reported through the Custom House; from which it would appear that the amount not so reported is far more important than is usually sue. posed. The number of emigrants that have arrived in five months of five years is as follows EMIGRANTS ARRIVED AT PORT OF NEW-YORK. 1844. 1845. 1846. 1847. 1848. January 662 1,298 1,019 4,427 7,3~s February 727 450 571 3,360 3,49w March... 712 .2,677 3.770 2,095 4,392 April 3,372 5,205 6,256 21,412 15,927 May 5,823 10,662 16,772 27,643 35,161 Total 11,296 .20,292~ .. . - - - .28,388 ----58,937 66,37. An average of $100 each would give near $6,637,000 arrived since January, equal to the whole nett export as reported officially. The movement of specie to and from the United States, has, in the past four years, been as follows VOL. XXHI.NO. CXXI. 6 78 Financial and Commercial Review. [July, IMPORT OF SPECIE INTO TUE UNITED STATES. 1843 1845 1846. 1847 1843 1845 1846 1847. Gold Gold Gold. Gold Silver Silver Silver Silver. 1-lanse Towns $237,804 43.....- 47.463 100 England.- 14,208,358 100,547 428,095. .10,322,627... .96,594... .80,281.. .59,616. ...139,377 Era. W. Indies 128,105 27,639 37.594... ..107.872...516,920....222,l00.. .295,287. ...465,248 N. A. Cots.. - .26,145 2.642 63,879 191,608.. .377,400.. .561.819.. .559,164.. .671,753 Erance 1,886,678 112,613 5,731 ..1,116.719.. .712,192 24,632...102,977. . .136,787 Cuba 241,245 180,816 173.538 ...259,983. . .413,524.. .347,352.. .336,450.. .119,175 Mexico 3,052 13,622 4,460 .669.2,137,295. ,.947,285.694,093... .326.539 brazil 226,780 623 1,462 17,964... .47,064 6,852 1,070. 7,331 Other Places 7,345 330,348 200,511 157,427.. .763,262.. ..761,070...818,562... .648,225 Total .. .16,965.6~2 818,850 910,313. .21,175.950.5,111,699. .3,251.392..2,867,119 . .2,513,435 Expert 200 818 201097 1,629,348 905,301..1,113,104. .6,395,516..2,275,920... .921,723 Excess ExpI... ...1,392,129 719,035 . ..3,144,124... . Excess Inipt. . .16,665,704 . . . .29,199,609..3,993,562... 591,499. .1,581,712 It is ohservable that the chief source of the supply of silver is Mexico, and for gold, England. In the last twenty years several important changes have laken place in the direction of specie. The leading causes for these changes are, 1st, the independence of Mexico, destroying the monopoly of the silver produce of that country, formerly held by Spain; 2d, the substitution of hills drawn at six months on London, for silver sent to (~hina for the purchase of Teas; 3d, the gold hill of 1834; 4th, the operation of cash duties in destroying the carrying trade to South America and Mexico in particular, in cx- change for which specie was brought hack. These are the leading causes which have changed the current of the precious metals collectively. There are others more remote affecting the different metals separately; as, for instance, the Rnssiau ukase of 1840, sub- stituting silver for paper rouhles to a considerable extent. The increased product of gold in the Russian mines. The mudification of the English Corn laws, whereby specie ~s no longer an active agent in purchasing corn for England; and the new bank law of England, the principle of which is to imitate in England the spirit of the United States gold bill of 1834, which was to enlarge the specie basis of the circulating medium; and also the extension of paper credits in France and Austria, tending to send specie out of those countries. The Independent Treasury law of the United States has given additional value to both the precious metals, by making them more in demand fur the purpose of a circulating medium. Last year the Treasury received over $48,000,000 for government purposes. The effect of this demand upon the value of the precious metals is the same as that upoll paper, when, in times of emergency, to support its value it is made receivable for public dees. At the moment this influence is exerted upon both the metals here, gold becomes more abundant in supply in Russia. The use of paper on the continent in those coun- tries where silver is the standard, was supplanting that metal and diminishing the de. isanud for it there, so that both were becoming more available. As we have said, how- ever, the new bank law of England tended to make gold more valuable there, and the result has been the enormous accumulations of late years. Lu order to ohserve the anges which have heretofore takeis place in the currents of the precious metals to and from the United States, we have compiled the followin0 table, showing the annual import from the four chief countries of supply, and also the aggregate import from all countries: IMPORT OF SPECIE INTO THE UNITED STATES FOR 27 YEARS. England Mexico France Cuba Total. 1821 .$645,529 964,658 1,163,258 3,064,890 1822 ,99,811 91,902 590,169 3,369,846 1823 282,822...... 139,309 271,764 5,097,896 1824 149,164...... .348,109 824,943 1,102,345 8,379,935 1825 82.888 2,603,103 24.646 .545,164 6,150,765 1826 122,216 860,409 193,769 .408,506 6,800,966 1827 33.111 4,005,255 164,347 .470 590 8,151,130 1828...., .20,972 3.85:3.380 .60 043 578,528 7,789,740 1829 39,826 4,344,746 29,052 .363,820 4,703,612 1830 144231 ,.4,703,716 62,329 362,082 8,155,964 1.8481 Financial and Commercial Review. England. Mexico. France. Cuba. Total. 1831 130,830 4,464,134 54,904 184.774 7,385,945 183-2 83,639 3,626,704 20,967 92,065 5907,504 1833 31903 4,472,287 60,233 93,769 6,724,261 1834 5,821,256 6,927.264 1,656,438. .601,031 16,103,550 1835 1,30:3,438 8.343,181 .570,012. .266.356 13,131.447 1836 2,322,920 4,537,418 .4,841,004. - .~.l 12.518 13,400,881 1837 116,199 4,730,978 1,051,503 1,648,110 10 471 414 1338 9,009,277 2,689,426 2,240.312 406,624 17.747,116 1839 1.420092 2273,548.. 150.129.~. .231,314 ..5,595,176 1840 30:3,306 3,458.892 1,120,249 548.163 8,882,813 1841 580.530 1,938,083 267,649 134,909 4,988,633 1842 205,930. 1,342,907 232,410. .235.740 4,087,016 1843 14,305,952 176,663 2,641,057 ..~. .655,205 22,320,335 1844 1,131.919 1,780,269..... ..693,192 166,98G... 5,830,429 1843... 180,848...~. .960,907 134,245 528,168 .070,242 1846 723.771~... ..d69,553 . 108,708 .509,988 3,777,732 1847 19,462,004 327,208. .1,253,506 379,157 24,121,289 After the independence of Mexico was established, in 1824, commenced the flow of silver into the United States. The amonnt reached over $8,300,000 in 1835, and has since fallen back to a comparatively unimportant sum. The chief causes for this were the want of a warehousing system, and the operation of cash duties. Formerly, when goods were landed, the seaports oflered large assortments of foreign goods, from which, with a portion of American manufacture, good trading cargoes could be made up for Sooth American ports, and specie returned here in payment. The imposition of high cash duties destroyed this trade, and produced a direct intercourse between Europe and these countries. The gold bill of 1834, together with the increasing cotton crop, and large purchases of American produce by England, gave a great impulse to the import of gold f& -om France and England, since heightened by the operation of the Treasury law. The trade with Cuba remained very nearly stationary, the Specie curi-ency of that coun- try giving great steadiness to national intercourse. The operation of a general war in Europe will now he to break up all those commercial influences which usually affect the destination of the metals; hut while it must produce hoarding, a very considerable portion of those hordes will clandestinely find their way into this country. The return of peace with Mexico, under present circumstances, will develope new sources of sup- ply for silver, guided by American energy and skill. The exports of the precious metals have been exceedingly irregular, following th~ course of trade, as follows: EXPORTS OF TIlE PRECIOUS METALS FROM THE U. STATES. To England. France. China Cuba. Total. 1321 $1,933,665 12,000....3,391,487 265,162.... 10,487.059 1322 .796,218 519892.... 5,075,012 221,50L.. .10,810,180 1823. .365,362 172,872...3.584,182 353,406 6,372,987 13-24 .312,112. .6.760... 4,463,852 262,098 7,014,ssg 1825 .218.266 916,530.... 4523,075 144,815 8.797,055, 1826 .572,533 19l,ll6.~. 1,651,595 403,897 4,098.625 1827... .190,101.. .1,540,913....2,513,318 873,236 6,971,306 1828... .2,309.775.. .2,396 690. -- - -- 454,500 784,978 7,550,63.~ 1829 613,333... 1,577,500 601,493 532,144 4,311,134 1830. 102,229....135,118 79,984.... .275,687 1.241,642 1831. 1,615,643....2,960.669 367,024 300.500 6,956457 1832.... 1,112,293 .450,779 .452,119 189,152 4,245,399. 1833. 244 66,006 .290,456 458.228 2,118.086 1834 270. 71,274 378,830 143,469 1.676,258 133.3 38,037 547,622.... 1,390,332 345.175 5,748,174 1336. 2,503.... .111.092 .413,661 516,141 3,978.5.~ 1337... 1,833,070.. .1 020.609 .155,000 507,147 1,692,730 11:38 10,185.....454,403 728,661 274665 3.034,605 1839 1,960,931.. .1,357,900 .988,473 157,191 4,868,205 1848 2.477,829.. .2,041,917 477,003 147,243 6,181, 41 1841 1,791,418...2,862,077 426,592 156,461 7,287,856 80 Financial and Commercial Review. [July, To England. France. China. Cuba. Total. 1842 .~.1,102,267. ....739.730 588.714 100,102 3,642,785 1843~.. 134,558~ - .571,660 128,495 1,41-2,902 1844 85,706.. .2,029,195 .565,955 564,919 5,270,809 1845 4,673,137.. .3,171,448 163,360 13,699 8,606,595 1846 973,010.. A,195,436 112,574 329,801 2.904.468 1847 .8,055. - 33,308 .612,114 1,907,024 The exports to China were very large down to 1828, when the hills of the late Na. tional Bank, drawn in London at six months sight, became available with the Hong merchants for teas, because they could dispose of them to the East India Company, in whose bands they were a good remittance to London. After the failure of the Bank, the great convenience of the operation caused the introdection of other bills, and the export in that direction is less than one-sixth what it formerly was. The exports to Fraace are mostly of the silver derived from Mexico, and to Cuba of Spanish gold coin, which come in from South America generally. The demand for specie that now exists arises from extraordinary causes altogether independent of the operations of commerce, is likely to produce some derangement in the financial afikirs of the country, but in a far less degree than would have been the case, but for the sound financial principles on which our national finances are now based. What would have been the situation of things at this crisis in Europe, had a National Bank in charge of the Treasury business been now, as was the case with the old bank in 1837, dependent upon borrowing operations in London or Paris, to meet a flood o~ paper running upon the former city from all parts of the world? The loan of the United States for $16,000,000, was taken at a premium of 302 per cent. and upwards; the amount of bids being near $30,440,000. The loan taken of the United States was not alone a financial triumph. Bids for $300000 stock of the State of New-York, bearing 6 per cent. interest, and redeenable in 1854, were opened on the 20th, and disclosed offers to the extent of $1,741,000, at terms ranging from par to 103,52. No bids were entertained under$102,l0, and the woole aniount was taken at or above that rate. As compared with the gov~rnment stock, this of New-York has ome advantages, viz: It is not required in specie, and is available for banking purposes. The a are, hat it is not a coupon stock, and has 14 years less time to run. The results of the last three operations of the government have been as follows: bonus, & c. Amount asked tnt Offered Rate ef offer. April 10, 1817. -. 01,673,250 6 57,140,220 lalA Jan. 1848. 5,000,000 6 17,000,000 June 16, 1848 16,000,000 30,350,000 302a405 Total $42,678,250... .104,490,220 Thus the government asked for $42,678,250 of specie, and was proffered $104,490,220, at a high premium, within a period of 15 months. What a triutnphant answer is this to croakers, one and all. To those who pretended that the policy 9f the great democratic party was injurious to the best financial interests of the country, and destructive of credit, the reproach is overwhelming. Not only has the policy sustained the government in a manner never before equalled. but the State of New-York is enabled to turn a 7 per cent. into a 6 per cent. stock, at a profit of $16,000 premium. It is to he observed, that of $32,000,000 offered by capitalists to the United States and State of New-York, but a very small portion came from abroad. The foreigners outbid the citizens of the United States for some portions, but without their bids the govern. inen~ would have got the whole money at a premium for the stock. We may reflect that this most gratifying proof of the national resources manifests itself after 18 months operation of low tariff and independent treasury, with the specie clause; after two years and two months of actual war, in which Mexico has hden conquered and ball her territory acquired; after six months of the mo t intense commercial distress in 1848.] Financial and Commercial Review. 81 England, and near four months of revolution throughout Europe. Amidst all these causes of commercial distress aud financial disaster, the United Stntes government towers aloft, unhurt amidst falling thrones, exploding hanks, and h rsting merchants. When the long- boasted credit of the British merchant is no longer to be trusted, and bills drawn upon him will not command money, specie flows freely forward to s pply the vacuity, without in any degree disturbing the markets, as has always been the case heretofore. The Uni- ted States government last year collected $48,000,000 of specie, and will this year, in cluding the loans, have collected $60,090,000, yet there is no lack. The metals are more abundant than ever. This market has supplied for export and for duties, $5,000,000 per month, for many months. On the top of this an offer is made to supply $3,000,000 per month to the government, and the money market becomes easy under the operation. The tendency of the commercial policy of the United States, as well as of Germany, has been, for a long time, to more liberal laws in relation to international trade, thus con- tinually increasing the breadth of the foundation on which national prosperity is based. The union of the German States in a Customs Union, by which internal free trade was es- tablished, has gone far towards promoting the nationality which is now laying the founda- tion for a reconstruction of the German Empire. The modification of the Enelish policy nacer the enlightened government that came into power in 1842, has had an extraordi- nary influence in promoting the consumption of United States farm produce in England; while the liberal policy of the north and west of Europe has enabled the people of those sections to consume more food, and therefore to diminish their a~ ricultural surplus. The consequence is, that each successive failure of a harvest, even in a small de0ree, produces an increasing influence upon the demand in the United States. It has been contended that the agricultural prosperity of the last year was the result of the deficit of the English crops only. The fact is, however, that it only accelerated a demand for produce, which was already rapidly increasing from the removal of international restrictions upon commerce. As an indication of this, we compile from the annual reports of the Secretary of the Treasury a table, showing the nuantities of produce exported from the United States, for four years, the year 1847 ending June 30, as follows: EXPORTS OF DOMESTIC PRODUCE FROM THE UNITED STATES IN FOUR YEARS. 1841. 1842. 1843. 1844. 1846. 1847. Fish, dried, q.. .$252,199....256,083 ..174,220.. - .271,610 277,401 258,87(1 Oil, sp. gills 349.393~..287,76L... 476,688 451,317 772,019 795,792 Do. whale, do...4,094,924. .3,909,728.. .2,479016.. .4,104.504.. .2,652,874.. .3,189,562 ~rhaleh~n, lb.. ..1,271,363....918,289.,.. 898,77.L. 4,149,607. .1,697,892.. .2,031,137 Candles, sp. 599,657.... 986.010. - - - 965.073.... ~~606,434.. A,083,839 795,150 Do. tallow 2,145,845 .1,981,602...1,998,357...3,006,566.. .3,718,714....3,094,985 Staves, M .42,507 3t,843... .19,765 .23,246 .28800 .21,206 Tar & pitch, b 77019 52,455 37,454 62,477 .65,805 47,274 Tnrp. & rosin, b. 244,846 277,787....188,952....862,668....351,914 312,059 Ashes, tons 5,565 8,012 5,436 18.271 9.800 7,235 Beef, hbls 56.537 48581 37,812 106,474 149,223... - 111.172 Tallow, lbs 989.027.. .7,038.092 - - .7,489,582 - - .9,915,366 ..10,435,696. 11,172,975 Poik, UhIs .133,290 180,032 80.310 161.629. - - - .190,422~...206, 190 hams, lbs. ...,2.794.517.. .2,518,841.. .2,422,067.. .3,886,976. - .3,006,630..17,921,471 hard l0,594,654...20,102,337..24,534,217..25,746,355..21,643,164..37,611,16t Butter. .3,785,993 - - .2.055,133 ---3,408,247-- .3,25 t,952 - - .3,439,660 ---4,214,433 Cheese 1,748,471....2,456,607.. .3,440,144....7,343.145.. .8,675,390..15,637,600 Sheep, No...... .14,639 19,557 13,609 12,980. .9,254 l0,53g Wheat, hush...868,585 817,598 311,685.... .558.9t7...l,913,795~.4,399,951 Flour, bbls.... ,1,515,817....1,283,602 84t,474.. .1,438,575...1,613,79o...4,399,951 Corn, bush, .535,727.... .600,308.... .672,608 825,282.. .1,726,068..16,326,05~ Corn meal, bl.. .232,284 209,199 174,354 247,882.... .298,790.. .948,060w Bread, ship 103,995 83,594 .96,572.....117,781 114,792.... 160,985 Potatoes, bu.....136,095 194,946 144,991.... .183,2:32 125,150... .164,36q - .pples, hbls... ..25,~16.... ...14,239... ..15,412 .22,324,.... ..30~903...... .45.00~ 82 Financial and Commercial Review. [JuIy~ 1841. 1842. 1843. 1844. 184 . 1847. Rice, tes. - - .. .101,617.... .114,617 106,766 134,745.. - - .126,007... - 144.427 Cotton, lbs.. 530,204,100. .584,717.017.792,297,106.663,633,455.547,553,055.527,219,953 Tobacco. hhds.. .147,828 158,710 94,454.... .163042.... 147,998.... 135,762 Hops, lbs 176,619 399.188 .1,182.565 664633....287,754...1,227,453 Wax 254.088.... .331.856 475,727.... .963.061.... 542.250 627,01 Spirits, gals 328,971.... .193,860 89.546 215,719.... 257,496.. - - .202.507 Molasses...... 1,281,142.... .998,409 491,947.... .881,325.... 850,462.... .859,732 Soap, lbs 3.414,122.. ..3,e54,836.. .3,186,652.. .4.732,75L..3,161,910.. .3,802,783 Tobacco, ma. .7,503,644.. .4,434.214.. .3,404,252.. .6,066,878.. .6,854,856.. .7,884,592 Lead 2.177,164. .14,552,357.. 15,366918.. 18.420,407..16,323,766.. .3,326,028 Nails 387.514.. .2.156,223.. .2,629,201.. .2,945,634...2,439.336.. .3,197,135 Sugar, refid...13,435.084.. .3,480.346 598,884... l,671,107...4,128,512.. .1.539,41 Gunpowder... .1,389,948... 1,539,284 436,589--.1,227,654.. 1,436,205 .....786,000 Salt, bush 215,084 110,400 40,678 157,329... 117,627.....202,244 Br. Sugar, lbs .... .109,295....388,057 it is to be observed, that from the year 1841 to 1844, which was a year of good crop abroad, the export of provisions was rapidly on the increase, under modified restrictio~ upon the importations in foreign countries. Each of these articles increased in 1846, an the failing crop of that year swelled the aggre gates beyond all precedent in 1847. The following will show the export of certain articles, as compared with the quar tity of the same articles delivered on the Erie Canal in 1847: Flour, lihls Corn, ho, Lard, lbs Cheese, lb -. Erie Can 3,952972 6 053,845 4,348,000 40,844,000 U. S. export 4,399,951 16,326,050 37,611,161 15,637,600 These figures indicate how impertant was the foreign market last year in sustainina pt-ices of produce under the quantities set down, and therefore how essentially have the mutual modification of laws promoted the interests of the farmer. As expressed in value the increase of the export of breadstnffs and provisions in the year 1847 was $4i,400,009~ and the larger proportion of that extraordinary export was, it appears in the above specie table, returned in the shape of 24,121,287 of specie, and the quantity returned in the bhape of dutiable goods sufficed, at the lower rates of duties, to raise the amount of duties higher than in the corresponding period of the previous year. Thus for the two last quarters of 1847, in which the present tariff was in operation, the duties were $13,952,845 against $13,657,945 in the same period of 1846. It was in this last six months of 1847 the lamest portion of the specie was imported, and it is evident that had it arrived in the shape of goods, paying the average duty, it would have produced $8,000,000 more than was actually received. This specie, however, represents the extra exports occasioned by the failure of the English crops, the regular yieldin0 a larger revenue than under the old tariff. The demand for stocks from abroad for investment ou the part of European capita. lis1s, does not appear to have met the anticipations of the more sanguine among our ope. rators. The difficulty has been doubtless the deplorable state of affairs in Eerope, which prevents a realization of sums that otherwise would be gladly transferred to regions of greater tranquillity. There is every reason to suppose, that as soon as the ratification of the treaty of peace with Mexico is known in Europe, that the disposition to invest in American stocks will become more marked arid effective. This at least has been the opinion expressed by leading financiers in London. By that event the amount of the national debt will be. come deferred and circumscribed, and while the means of payment are becoming yearly greater through the operative revenue land, the movement of the indebted states has been such as to restore confidence in their integrity. The state of Indiana failed in 1842, having been trapped into debt by the speculations of political intriguers, and since then she has paid no interest. As the remains of those speculations, and the proceeds of some $12r000,000 of debt, she had an unfinished canal 1348.] Financial and Commercial Review. S called the Wabash and Erie, designed to run from Toledo, Ohio, nearly longitudinally through the strte to the Ohio river. Last year she passed a law, providing that if the state creditors would surrender one-half their bonds, and release the state from the pay- ment of principal and interest forever, that the state would provide by taxation for tWa payment of the other half, after 1850, up to which time the arrearage interest should be ~nnded in a stock to be added to the principal, and thereafter the state would pay interest regularly. For the half of the debt which the bondholders relinquish, the state authorized th~m to subscribe $1,000,000 cash, to fluish the canal, and hold it by trustees, until it should furnish revenues sufficient to pay them for the new outlay to complete it, and reimburse the unpaid half of the old debt. In case it should never suffice for the payment of the debt, the bondholders to lose it, as they are to relinquish all claims upon the state for it. Many of the bondholders, at home end abroad, have complied with these terms, and surrendered their bonds. It appears, however, that the United States is a bondholder to sotne extent, having invested Indian trust funds in Indian~ bonds; and a bill is now before Congress, and passed the Senate, authorizing the surrender to Indiana of half the bonds held by the United States, in the same manner as other creditors, not- withstanding that Congress has made large grtints of land, some 800000 acres, to aid In- diana in the completion of her canal. A strong opposition is being made to the passge of this bill. There is no doubt that must of the debts contracted by western states, were the moans of a downright swindle of the people; and there was no cause of surprise that at first they refused to burd u themselves with taxes for money they had neither received nor enjoyed. They have, nearly all of them, however, made some effort to settle the claims. Michi- gan, by acknowledging as much money as she received on her bonds, and by selhn0 ho~ railroads in exchange for bonds at par, has brought her affairs into a mananeable shape- Illinois proposed to her creditors to advance $1,600,000 to complete her great canal, one of the noblest works in the country, and to retails possession of it and its attached lands, as a means of meeting the interest and principal of the bonds. She did not ask, ho ever, to be released from a dollar of debt, bet levied a tax to pay interest pro rota upo all her actual debt, the canal to remain as a kind of sirtking fend, to redeem the bonds ultimately. The canal being completed, the 230,000 acres belonging to it, arid situated on its borders, are advertised for sale in September, the proceeds will be applied to the reimbursement of the loan of $1,600,000 advanced to complete the work. The result will be that Illinois will be clear of debt, and, like New-York, have a canal which will relieve her people from taxation for state purposes. We think that Indiana would have done better, had she, like Michigan, distinnuishe between those bonds for which she got pay, and those like the stock giverr to the Morris Canal, out of which she was swindled. The whole operation, however, throo0h W IC state credits have passed in the last ten years, has been a most healthy one. It has con- vinced stockjobbers~ bankers and speculators, that the people are sovereign; that their power is not to be despised, nor their orders disregarded. They can neither be b mu- bugged norde fled with profit. When the Barings bought Florida bonds, and Mr. Biddle Mississippi bonds, at a discount, in defiance of the law authorizing a loan, they thon0bt they were above punishment. The people have now teeght them that to keep contracts good, both parties must fulfil the terms, and that the people are least of all to be trifled with The fact is now apparent, that when the people have decided upon contracting a debt, and have in a law prescribed the terms on which it shall be done, rigid compliance with the terms of that law produces the best possible security on the face of the earth. If, however, knavish bankers and thieving brokers seek advantage in evading the terms of that law, the stock is worthless. All the debts of Europe, including England, are hang- Ing in the air. The people, now about coming into power, have had no hand in con- tracting them. The powers that did contract them are dissolving into thin air, like the baseless fabric of a dream, and the debts are soluble in the same element. The debts were contracted for the purpose of preventing that acquisition of power now about being S4 Gossip of the Afontk. [July, perfected by the people. Under these circumstances capitalists become nervous, and the great republic, new at peace with all the world, is daily becoming more attractive as a depository for wealth. The debt of this government of 20,000,000 of people, of the greatest average wealth of any people in the world, is now under $70,000,000, including the new loan. The or- dinary revenues of the government are, in every respect, equal to the discharge of the debt and all the current expenses of the government, while the whole public domain of the Union is pledged for the final redemption. The debt of England, on the other hand, is $3,860,000,000 imposed upon a distressed and impoverished people, one clear third of whom are in a state of starvation, and last year subsisted on our charity. The utmost skill of an unscrupulous government, practised for centuries in the means of extortion, has been unable to procure sufficient from the people to pay the interest on that debt, and the overtaxed masses are now pressing with increasing energy upon the aristocratic privileges that have been so long enjoyed, and the future promises but a gloomy time for landholders. Yet that stock, drawing hut three per cent. interest, sold, at the last dates, amid chartist risings, Irish demonstrations, and the crumbling dynasties of Europe, at 84 per cent, an equivalent for the United States stock now created, would be 168 per cent. Even the French 3 per cents, in the midst of the most threatening revolution for funded interests, and which has caused them to fell 30 per cent, are still higher than those of the United States, based on the assent of the people, in the midst of the most prolific na- tional wealth, popular prosperity, and comparative freedom. GOSSIP OF TilE 1~1ONTil. BLESSED be the man who invented sleep, said Sancho Pauza, it wraps a man up like a blanket. Groaning Gotharnites, who toss on hot and restless pillows, would join the doughty squire in his blessing upon the inventor of sleep, but hardly for the reason assigned by tha comical embodiment of selfishness. The idea of wrapping a manup in a blanket, would at any time during the last three weeks have awakened horror unutterable in the mind of the com- munity, and any Lady Bountiful who had offered a mendicant a flannel shirt, would have beei regarded as a second Dejanira, save by the members of the Dorcas Society of which sh might, could, would, or should be a member. With regard to these ladies, the Dorcases, it seems impossible to assign the limits of temperature at which they would consider a flanne shirt superfluous, or the ill of life for which they would not deem it a cuvo. Indeed, if Dive were to send a petition to the Board of Directresses be~ing for a drop of water to cool his parched tongue, we doubt not that he would receive in answer a noel shirt, or mayhap a pair of woollen stockings. Let us not be understood as reviling this mode of benefitting the) poor. It doubtless springs from a feeling of true benevolence, and the societies being estab- lished for the purpose of supplying woollen garments, is it not natural to suppose that all who ap- ply to them for relief must be in need of such garments? Basides, too, the fabric tion of them becomes an ineradicable habit, a sort of monomania of benevolence. Thus we have heard of an estimable lady who, during the past month, has kept up a diligent and uncompromising fabri- cation of woollen stockings of the most ponderous and formidable description which knittin needles are capable of sustaining, and this, too, when the heat was so great that even Mosa is reported to have threatened to lam a boy for saying fire. Could self-immolhtion on th altar of benevolence go farther? The charm of the American climate is said to be its variety, and variety is also vnl~arly said to be the spice of life. Boh these saying are doubtless true; but still if we had the oi-de - lug of our ccmrte du our,this spice would be a little less freely used, and our dish of lifc w~ ~-4

S4 Gossip of the Afontk. [July, perfected by the people. Under these circumstances capitalists become nervous, and the great republic, new at peace with all the world, is daily becoming more attractive as a depository for wealth. The debt of this government of 20,000,000 of people, of the greatest average wealth of any people in the world, is now under $70,000,000, including the new loan. The or- dinary revenues of the government are, in every respect, equal to the discharge of the debt and all the current expenses of the government, while the whole public domain of the Union is pledged for the final redemption. The debt of England, on the other hand, is $3,860,000,000 imposed upon a distressed and impoverished people, one clear third of whom are in a state of starvation, and last year subsisted on our charity. The utmost skill of an unscrupulous government, practised for centuries in the means of extortion, has been unable to procure sufficient from the people to pay the interest on that debt, and the overtaxed masses are now pressing with increasing energy upon the aristocratic privileges that have been so long enjoyed, and the future promises but a gloomy time for landholders. Yet that stock, drawing hut three per cent. interest, sold, at the last dates, amid chartist risings, Irish demonstrations, and the crumbling dynasties of Europe, at 84 per cent, an equivalent for the United States stock now created, would be 168 per cent. Even the French 3 per cents, in the midst of the most threatening revolution for funded interests, and which has caused them to fell 30 per cent, are still higher than those of the United States, based on the assent of the people, in the midst of the most prolific na- tional wealth, popular prosperity, and comparative freedom. GOSSIP OF TilE 1~1ONTil. BLESSED be the man who invented sleep, said Sancho Pauza, it wraps a man up like a blanket. Groaning Gotharnites, who toss on hot and restless pillows, would join the doughty squire in his blessing upon the inventor of sleep, but hardly for the reason assigned by tha comical embodiment of selfishness. The idea of wrapping a manup in a blanket, would at any time during the last three weeks have awakened horror unutterable in the mind of the com- munity, and any Lady Bountiful who had offered a mendicant a flannel shirt, would have beei regarded as a second Dejanira, save by the members of the Dorcas Society of which sh might, could, would, or should be a member. With regard to these ladies, the Dorcases, it seems impossible to assign the limits of temperature at which they would consider a flanne shirt superfluous, or the ill of life for which they would not deem it a cuvo. Indeed, if Dive were to send a petition to the Board of Directresses be~ing for a drop of water to cool his parched tongue, we doubt not that he would receive in answer a noel shirt, or mayhap a pair of woollen stockings. Let us not be understood as reviling this mode of benefitting the) poor. It doubtless springs from a feeling of true benevolence, and the societies being estab- lished for the purpose of supplying woollen garments, is it not natural to suppose that all who ap- ply to them for relief must be in need of such garments? Basides, too, the fabric tion of them becomes an ineradicable habit, a sort of monomania of benevolence. Thus we have heard of an estimable lady who, during the past month, has kept up a diligent and uncompromising fabri- cation of woollen stockings of the most ponderous and formidable description which knittin needles are capable of sustaining, and this, too, when the heat was so great that even Mosa is reported to have threatened to lam a boy for saying fire. Could self-immolhtion on th altar of benevolence go farther? The charm of the American climate is said to be its variety, and variety is also vnl~arly said to be the spice of life. Boh these saying are doubtless true; but still if we had the oi-de - lug of our ccmrte du our,this spice would be a little less freely used, and our dish of lifc w~ ~-4 1848.] Gossip of the Month. cease to be the hot, over-seasoned stew it is at present. Seriously, however, our summers~ are very well for the hatching of alligators or the fructification of snapping turtles, but for the comfort and ~ ellbeing ot the animal man, we must admit that they are open to slight objection. Had COLERIDGE~ Ancient Mariner been driven upon our shores in June, our hot and coppery sky would have given him good reason to suppose that we were a nation of albatross killers, and that too, when a week before we had been shivering under paletots and holding our hats on lest they should he blown off our heads by stiff nor westers. indeed such are the vicissitudes of our climate, that anAmerican able to live in his own country can certainly endure any other; and it is by no means astonishing that Englishmen lose their fresh color and Italians their voices, when brought under our sometimes ardent, sometimes chilling, but always changeable sky, when we to the manner hornand a very d manner it ishave so rarely any color or voice ourselves. But we have, among other compensations, such skies, such moonlight, and such sunsets, as are ,azed on by the denizens of no other land; and the sunsets of the Bay of New-York clam pre-eminence over all others. Not elsewhere can Sot find such gorgeous drapery to draw around the couch whereon he sinks to rest. These sunsets have rarely been more alorious than during the past mon~th. During one of the most beautiful of them a friend of ours met a Londoner upon the Battery. Never had the charms of that beautiful spot been more ravishin~. The hay, whose verdant islands glowed like huge emeralds in the beams of the sinkin0 sun, stretched out unruffled, save where the gentle evening sea breeze made cats-paws on its ~lossy surface, in which were reflected the flapping sails of some river craft startina lazily upon their upward voyage, and the dark hulls and rigging of a few ships at anchor, from some of whiel floated mellowed snatches of the monotonous sailors son~. Weehawken Heibhts, Gowanus Hills, and the distant summit of Staten Island, were bathed in that d eamy haze with which DURAND so delights to clothe his pictures; over bead old elms, willows and maples stretched out their arms clothed in summers richest hues ; and above all bent the vaulted sky whose dome of deep clear blue was fretted with ,,olden clouds of ever changing forms. The Ameri- can exulting in the beauty of the scene said to the Englishman: Well, is not this magnificent ~ You have nothing like this in England. Ah, replied the other, in a tone of sedate surprise, you forget weve the Thames. Spirit of mud and fog! for sublimity of ignorance and con~ ceit, commend us to your Cockney. Warm as the weather has been during the greater part of June, yet to keep up the equilibrium- of temperature throughout the year, winter so prolonged itself into spring, and spring into summer, that loub after the time when everybody is supposed to have left the town in possession of the nobodies, the town found the somebodies hardly decimated. But ere these pages reach the readers eye, the world of fashion, which means those who can afford it and these who wish it to be supposed that they can aflbrd it, will be out of town; that is, the former will be at Newport, and the latter attheir wits end, not a long journey, how to seem out of town when they nearest approach to it can only be to shut their front windows, let the bell-pull grow dingy and the sidewalk go unswept. A few who can afford to be considered not fashionable will remain in town invisible to vul~ar eyes, save in the cool of the evening, and then in the most charming summer negliges. But those who can, and some who cannot, afford it, will be at Newport. Saratoga is abandoned, fuit Ilium, its ~lory has departed. Not that this is a thing o~ this year, or of the last, or before the last. For ten years or more ha. the ton of Saratoga been falling. Crowds gathered tis true, but they were the crowds whiel ruin, not those which make a watering place. Fifteen years ago, when the widow B., Mrs. F. and the Misses W. gave the law at Saratoga, it might have been called fashionable. But their empire became over~rown and unwieldly; their subjects were too many not to rebel, and gradually Saratoga has been dropped, and after fitful favors bestowed upon Catskili Mountain, Trenton and Niagara Falls, Newport has won the palm, and Saratoga will soon be given up to real invalids, or those who are fond of water with the flavor of warm flat irons, - as Ballston was abandoned before it. But within a short time a new and most decidedly aristocratic feature has appeared at New- port. This is the building of private cottages by some of those who wish to retire for a few weeks to the enjoyment of the baths and breezes of this most delibhtful of watering places. We say this is aristocratic, but we use the word in no offensive sense. Of aristocracy in its legitimate aud political sense there can be nothing in this country; social aristocracy there will always be in every land, so long as men have different tastes and inherit or acquire diffe eat means of gratifying those tastes. One of the first effects of refinement is a desire of privacy 86 Gossip of the Month. [July, a disinclination to have ones own daily life the object of observation and remark by strangers, and a similar disinclination to pry into the affairs of others, with a disposition to keep ones self as much to ones self as circumstances will allow. The gregariousness of a table ditote at a watering place is at variance with this, and we are not surprised that those whose means enable them to build a house for a six weeks residence, have chosen the quiet comforts of a cotte~, e ornee in preference to the bustle and glare of a crowded hotel. Truly he must be a devil who could grin at these cottages with a double coach house, or see anythin0 in them of the pride which apes humility. Since our last number the two great political conventions at Baltimore and Philadelphia have taken place. Stirrie~ times they had at both, and by means of the ma~netic telegraph they managed to keep the whole country in about as much excitement as the cities in which they were held. With the nominations made at either, and the means taken to bring about those nominations, we have in this place, we thank our stars, nothin,, to do. Let Whigs and Democrats, Barnburners and Old Hunkers, Clay men and Taylor men, fight this out among themselves and in their own way. We are heartily tired of seeing the stereotyped phrases about Harry of the West, the Mill Boy of the Slashes, the Wilmot Proviso, Dou,,h Faces, Northern Men with Southern Principles, Free Soil and Rou,,h and Ready. We do not care whether HENRY CLAY rode to the mill with his face to the horses head or tail, or whether he used the meal bag for a saddle, or rode bareback and shouldered the corn. Gen. CAss father may have worn an unlimited number of black cockades, and in our present mood it would be a matter of utter indifference to us; and we are willing to admit now, once and forcver, that Gen. TAYLOR 15 very Rough and very Ready, indeed, that there is no known limit to his rou,,hness or to his readiness. In particular are we ready and willing to admit or to promise anything which will prevent our being daily hoisted up upon the broad whig plat- form ; overshadowed by the broad banner of democracy, on which are inscribed the names of, heaven knows who; runniug foul of some standard hearer of his party; having a political creed crammed down our throats, compounded of Heaven knows what; or being assured by some whiffet whom our freedom of the press permits to spoil paper which otherwise might be useful, and who hopes thereby to be hoisted out of the slough of his own insignificance, that he was the first to nail to his mast-head (meaning thereby his own blockhead,) the names of TAYLOR & FILLMORE. How disgusting is all this cant, which, we regret to say it, is daily more and more used, and by journals from which we have a right to expect better things. Why cannot editors write what they wish to say in good plain English, and in terms as direct and energetic as they please, instead of deluging their columns with this gag, which is so ineffably stupid and snobbish? The Conventions were followed by ratification meetings and disavowal meetings, each of which partook rather more of the character of its opposite than of its own. Meetings called to glorify TAYLOR were rendered uproarious by frantic cheers for CLAY t1~OO the slightest allusion to his name or his political course. Eulogies upon the Hero of Buena Vista were cut short by elderly gentlemen in a hi,,h state of excitementfor be it observed that your old whi, is almost invariably a rabid CLAY man, it is the youngsters who are TAYLOEtTEsleaping on to the platformnot the whig platform of which we hear so much, but the speakers platformand avowiug their determination to live and die by that same old coon, and if that very respect- able and wily old animal were to die himself, then to live and die by his administrators. Meet- ings of people determiiied that HENRY CLAY shall be Presdent whether he will or no, or whether the people will or no, broke up in a row, because something was said derogatory to the roughness and readiness of old ZACH; and the Baruburners had no row, only because their meetin,,s were not large enough to get up one. But scores, almost, of conventions are yet to be held by fragments of both parties. Confusion becomes worse confounded; and ere the Autumn election, more than one will be puzzled to know what party he belon,,s to. The old game of follow my leader seems to be broken up. In Music, little or nothing has been done, save the giving of two or three sparsely attended concerts by artists of first rate merit. Mr. FRY goes on quietly appropriating to himself all the means of giving opera here during the next season, and we cannot see but that the manage. mament of the opera-house must fall into his hands. As we have said before, we think it could 1848.] Gossip of tke Mont1~. 87 not be in better. At all events, whoeverwish~s to take tbe task from his hands, must be ready to begin with an outlay of thirty tbousand dollars before a note is sung or a ticket sold. The best portion of the company, including of course TRUFFI & BENEDETTI, have been per. forming at Boston with some success, as far as we can judge from the musical notices in the Boston papers, which, with but one or two exceptions, we must say are amon0 the most ~ comprehensible specimens of criticism and English it has ever been our fortune to read. True, they have concluded that they admire to hear TRUFFt, have graciously granted some ac- a )tance to B~NEDETTI for what they are pleased to call his facile energy. But what is their praise of these worth when nearly the same meed is awarded to Rosam CoRsi? BtscAccmANTx, with PERELLI and AvIGNONE, has been testing the admiration which the Phi- ladelphians professed so profusely for her some months since. Her performances were brou~ht to a sudden close by a fainting fit upon the stage. She was carried home, and it is said, will not be able to appear in public for some weeks. The re~ret which her friends will feel at hearing of her illness,will be somewhat diminished by the fact, that it could not have happened at a time when her pecuniary interests would have suffered less by it. BoTEsINI, AtuatTt and D~as VERNINES gave a concert, early in the month, at the Tabernacle, with but little profit to themselves. The two former were well known here as distinguished members of the Havana Company, the last is a pianist, who has attracted much attention in New-Orleans. He is a skilful and highly finished performer, who cannot fail to please a ge- neral audien4ce, or to win the admiration of those who know the difficulties of the instrument of which he is so accomplished a master; but he lacks any striking qualities, either in feeling or execution, and fails to excite his hearers. The same may be said of the violinist ARDITI, and in addition that he has a hard, wiry tone, and plays too often out of tune. Undoubtedly the attraction of the concert was the wonderful performance of the youthful contrabassist BoTesfam. This young man is one of the vcry few celebrities who are worthy of that much abused name, great artist. To a thorou,,h and intuitive knowledge of his in- st ument, and power to control and develop its mi0hty force, he adds a fertile fancy, fervid feel. log, and a taste formed upon the models of the areat classic masters. The works of HAYDN, MOZART and BEETHOvEN have been the subjects of his patient and reverential study, and are the objects of his enthusiastic admiration. He is fond, as was URAGONETTI, of playing upon the contrabasso the violoncello parts of the best sonatas, trios, quartetts and other chamber music. We know this from those who have had the good fortune to hear him in these perform- ances, hut ere we had learned the fact, we judged from his style of playing and composition, that such was the case. This severe study in a severe school is rare in a modern Italian; still more rare is it that one of these is capable of ri0htly appreciatin~ those models. The aenius of the student is too frequently incompatible with that of the master. The one is intense and volatile, the other earnest and thoughtful ; and rarely is it that an artist appears of talent and taste sufficiently comprehensive to combine the beauties of both. Bitt this BoTEsrat does. Himself an ardent and impulsive Italian, he has become deeply imbued with the spirit of the great German in- strumental writers, and this is manifest in his execution and his writin0, though they are of the romantic school. His performance is as delightful as it is wonderful. His tone is large, solid and pervading; his intonation perfect, in spite of the long sltilts required by his instrument, sometimes two feet or more,and his stopping is as firm as a vice. His execution of some passages with the thumb position of the violoncello is an astounding triumph over mechanical difficulties, and for a legitimate end, as are all his wonderful feats; for he is a great artist, and does nothing merely to make people stare. His arpeggios and scale passages are equal, bril- liant and articulated to the last degree of nicety, and his double stopping is equally accurate. The most admirable as well as the most remarkable characteristic of his performance is, that his style is as remarkable for pathos as energy; he makes his huge instrument sing in the most touching manner, and with a large, firm, well-sustained cantabile. It is remarkable, that the man who has accomplished all this, is but twenty-five years of age, and has not heard the great masters of his instrument, whose fame, while yet in his youth, he has eclipsed with all who have heard both him and them. Young and slender, he has accomplished, what else would seem the task ofa veteran and a giant. Madame Ptco, who sana at this concert with much of her old feeling and abandon, but with an evidently impaired voice, is, we hear, engaged for Havana, as is also Sigr. V txTTI, formerly of the Astor Place Company. 88 Gossip of the Month. [July, ~fhe STEYERMARKISOHE have returned to the metropolis, after making, with profit as we Un derstand, the circuit of the Union. These young musicians be~an their career here, under quite unfavorable auspices, and have succeeded only by the gradual and abiding appreciation of their merits which the constant repetition of their concerts has awakened; forte their honor be it spoken, they have taken no illegitimate means to bring themselves before the public. Their first concert in every city has always been poorly attended, but once heard by amateurs and critics of influence, they acquire wide and enviable reputation, and their concerts become bothfashionable and profitable. They are all townsmen, and are a detachment from a larger orchestral band, They have played together for years. This is easily credible, youthful as some of them are; for in Germany (to make a bull) a man enters an orchestra when he is a boy, and, if competent, generally remains a member of it dunn0 his Jife. We are glad to see such encouragement given to this able band of performers, not only because they merit it, but because an appreciation of concerts of this kind is an indication of a much sounder and more genuine love of instrumental music than that evinced by the crowded houses drawn by astonishing virtuosos. In the one case, the love of the marvellous and the desire to see a celebrity, may be the inducement of a large portion of those present, in the other a real love for-music must be the only impelling motive to nearly all. Besides, it is in concerted music that the richest and purest delights afforded by the art are to be found. The band is small, only nineteen in number, without oboes, and wanting the second flute and fagotto. But the instruments are all effectively handled, the violins are finely played, and with one method of bowing, which enables them to produce a much better effect than is heard from our orchestras, in which all play with what method they please, or with no method at all, and one may be bowing up, another down, one usin,, the point, another the heel, another the mid. die of the bow in the same passage; the brass instruments have fine, rich tones, and are played quietly. with discretion as well as emphasis; and by a rapid change of instruments by some of the performers the effect of a full brass band is nearly attained. From the delicacy, firmness and precision of the whole, the subdued pianos, and the general quiet, cool tone of the per- formancetItus bringing out the fortes in strong reliefaitd by the subservience of each mdi. didual performer to the general effect, these Steyermarkers attain ae excellence to which we have hitherto been strangers. Their selection of music is varied, but not quite what we wish it was. There is little dancin,, music even of STRAUSS, LANNER or LAaiTzsKy which is very satisfactory, we mean as the staple of an evenings entertainment. We would as soon think of sending a formal invitation to a friend to eat an ice, as deliberately d termine to go to hear waltzes and polkas. Overtures, however, would fati,,ue if unrelieved, and these lighter com- positions form a very pleasin,, contrast to them; but we wonder that we do not hear from a band so well drilled some of the beautiful concerted pifices for six, seven or eight instruments by the best composers of Germany. The introduction of one or two of these would give to the con- certs a character and a di,,nity which they now lack; they would form an agreeable variety in programme, and be welcome to the greater itumber of our lovers of instrumental music. We have heard it said that the Steyermarkers are not able to play this music with effect; in fact, that they cannot step out of their regular routine of practised pieces: bttt this we would not believe save on the most unequivocal evidence. Young RZIHA, the beardless, striphing con- ductor of this admirable band, controls it well. We hope that the & eyerenarkische will remain with us and become incorporated with our opera orchestra and our Philharmonic Society, the stock of which would be much improved by the in,,raftin0 of such healthy scions. A new pianist has appeared among us in the person of MAucecE STaAutoscie. He came at about the same time as DEs VERNiNEs, and with even less previous notice of tiis visit. But in addition to his decided superiority as an artist, he had the advanta,,e in the apparent unpronoun. ability of his nameno mean consideration in summing up the qualifications of a musician. He made his first appearance at Niblos, and on a Saturday night; not a very aupicious core mencement of his career, but there was present a tolerably numerous audience, and among these were about a hundred and fifty of those desperate amateurs of music, who, all more or less competent jud,,es of an artists abilities, are invariably present at the debut of a new virtuoso, and may be called the reputation makers of the town. M. STRAKoscas found his audience by no means disposed to over-estimate his powers, and received hardly the usual amount of complimentary applause, as with the step and attitude of a Prussian grenadier, he first appeared upon the stage. flut soon he inte~e ted his hearers, then delighted thent, mmnsi 1848.] Gossip of the AIo7dk. 80 ere he was well through the first half of his first piece, hearty, spdntaneous and unanimous ap- plause burst from all parts of the house, and he was acknowledged a lion. The applause was not ouly euthusiastic, but it was bestowed in the right places; it increased as he went on, and his second piece as well as his performance at his concert at the Tabernacle, confirmed his position as a great artist. The remarkable characteristics of SraAaoscHs style are delicacy, precision and finish. The certainty with which he takes the widest intervals in the most rapid movements, and the celerity and distinctness with which he repeats one note are brilliant to a degree, and among those marvellous things which are almost incredible save when seen. STRAKOScH has power too, quite enouah for all the needs of strong contrast, and a nervous grasp of the keys, which gives great solidity and compactness to his chords, which have the fullness if not the weight of DE NEYEits. He has not, however, DE MEYERS ponderous arm nor his unfla~~ing fingers, but he sings more upon his instrument, and has the evenness and grace of Herz without his monotony. The e. pression and impressiveness with which he gives his themes, is a remark- able excellence in his performance. His execution is in the highest degree brilliant and rapid, his scale passaaes are even and well articulated, and his accentuation shows aperfect comprehen- sion and command of the effects of rhythm, that first, last and surest index of the real artist, His touch is very firm and crisp with all its delicacy, and his fingers capable of any manmuvre which flexibility can accomplish; this enables him to shake with remarkable brilliance and evenness, while with the same hand he continues his theme or an accompaniment. Such being his accomplishment, it is almost needless to say that he is ambidextrous. He lacks oiie thing which we wish he did not, and that is a certain dramatic intensity, the power of pro- ducing an effect like that of the climax of a concerted piece upon the stage. The piano forte is capable of this, and its use is one of the most striking characteristics of the modern style of piano forte playing. The little VIENNOiSES have made a very appropriate and successful introduction of NiaLo summer season at the Astor Place Opera House. They are great favorites, aiid their dances have riven an air of elegance to the performances quite in keeping with the place. It is no wonder that these little people are so run after and so petted; their exhibition is one of the most remarkable occurrences in the history of public amusements, and Madame WE ISS must he regarded as an extraordinary woman. The perfection of discipline to which she has bro%ht these ugly little wretches, shows an unusual capacity foi~ control on her part, and an indefatiga- bility equally rare. We call the little dancers u,,ly, simply because they are so, with four or five exceptions. Go out into the highways and byways of New-York and take the first fifty of the most ragged and neglected little female urchins you meet, and eneb one of them will be more comely than any Viennoise of the troop, with the exceptions we have made ; and these four or five are rapidly becoming entirely too womanly for their positions, and are in fact rirls of fifteen or sixteen years, whose Teutonic luxuriance of fi,, are is more calculated to excite admiration than their skill in ballet dances. But to return to Madame WEiss, whom th occupants of the side boxes can see almost leaping on the stage from the side scenes in her anxiety for her little puppets. She does everything for the children and the public. Not con- tent with teaching them to dancequite a sufficient task one would thinkshe composes the dances, selects and arranges the music, designs the costumes, is her own business man, and in addition to this superintends the household affairs of her enormous little familyat home she must look very like the old woman who lived in a shoeand teaches them many other things than how to dance. For week before last it was discovered that they could sing, and very pr~ttily too, with almost irreproachable time and tune, and in their white dresses and pantaletts and long pink sashes, looking like an Infant Sunday School at an anniversary. We almost expected to see FANNY PEAGER carryin,, a blue banner. Who has not noticed and involuntarily smiled upon FANNy PRAGER. By no means among the largest or the oldest of the dancers, she is the prettiest, most graceful, and most intelligent. ~lie has, in addition to her sparkling black eyes, her clear brown complexion, her rosy mouth and bewitching expression, a power of fascination which is distinct from all those. and is a gift rif nature by itself. When the evolutions of the dance permit it, it is r rely that the eye does not rest instinctively upon the countenance and movements of this bewitching little elf, and her performance always justifies the preference given her. She dances with the abandoti and spirit of a woman, though she cannot from her youth assume that voIu~tuons grace which 90 Gossip of the Month. [July, is the great charm in the mature dancer. She dances with her whole soul, and her eyes dance to keep her feet compmy. It is amusing to see the zest with which she enters into the thin~, and still more so to ohserve the way with whichthe dance overshe acknowled~es the applause. With the air of a prima donna, of a FANNY EuAsL~R, she turns her eyes ahout the house, having a glance and a smile for every one, and maintains that sort of perpetuated curtsy which seems always sinking and yet is always stationary until the curtain shuts her beaming eyes from the audience. Nor are her powers alto0ether devoted to hersclf. ~he is the life and soul of the troop. She i5 Madame WEIsss ri~ht hand. She leads the dancers; all take their cue from her. She is always in front, when every dance, when every figure beams and ends. In the quaint and spirited Polka Peysenne she may he seen to he the first to start and the last to return in the bewildering waltz, at a velocity and with an inclination of hody that, if her own or her partners hold were to he lost, would on all principles of revoivin,, bodies and projectile forces send her flying head first into the first tier of boxes. FANNY rehearses for the whole troop, and in her modet stuff frock, looking quite as pretty as in her gala dress, goes through in the morning the evolution of each dance, in such a manner that, as far as the musicians are concerned, no other rehearsal is needed. And during the perfoimance she is not thinking of herself or the admiration she awakens, but has her eye upon her campanions, and her attention absorbed by the general effect. If watched closely she may be observed in the most intricate movements giving a sign or speaking a word to the leader of the orchestra, or in some way controlling the little crowd around her. In short, FANNY PRAGER is the Danseoses Viennoises. There has been little of consequence done at the theatres during the past month, and pro- bably little will be done until the opening of the new season. NiaLo has failed in bettIng the French Company, which, on account of some resented gallantries of its tenor in New Orleans has been broken up, and thus we are deprived of what has been ea~erly looked for as our most delightful summer amusement. THE FEENcH MINISTER We see that a Mons. de Circourt has been appointed by the French Government to occupy the vacant post of Minister Plenipotentiary at Washiagton. The name of this gentleman is quite unknown to us, and we are therefore i norant whethe he has already served in a diplomatic capacity, or whether this is his debut in public life. In any case, be may rely on a cordial welcome from our government and citizens generally. After the successive announcement of at least two different individuals to the position of Con- sul General at New-York, lately held with so much honor and popularity by NI. do la Forest, we are astonished to hear nothing of the arrival of either. The cause of the delay we are left to conjecture, but it is not improbable that it may arise from the extreme instability of affairs at home. There seems no certainty, either in France or out of it, of a pacific and regular or- ganization of the new government; and we do not wonder therefore that appointments to office are received with indifference and obeyed with small alacrity. It is impossible for the new functionary to know whether he may not be recalled even before he has time to arrive at his new post. We hear nothing on every side but expressions of stron~ and sincere regret at the withdrawal of NI. de la Forest from his Consulate at New-York. He has resided so long amongst us, and endeared himself by his afikble manners and his hospitable habits to so large and influential a portion of our citizens, that the unexpected news of his retirement occasioned them not more surprise than real chagrin. It is a matter of too much delicacyfor us to com- ment upon at any length, but we see no reason to forbear the expression of our opinion, that tile restoration of NI. de la Forest at any moment, sooner or later, to his recent office, will b received with emphatic and general marks of pleasure by the citizens of New-York. We cannot permit the death of such a man as THOMAS SNOWUEN to pass altogether unno- ticed. There is hardly a printing office in the country where his name was not known, and known with honor. For twenty years he had held the responsible position of cashier and printer of the largest and most prominent daily journal in the country, and was respected and es- teemed by all good men with whom he had in that time been brouaht in contact, lie was the soul of kindness and integrity. By his life he honored even the trade of FEANKLIN and tile ALOI, and his death received that tribute compar2d with which the most dazzling fame is nothing worffi, the deep and abiding sorrow of the many friends his life had ade. 1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress

1848.] Notices of New Books. 9 NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD: By the Baroness Knorring. Translate d by Mary Howitt. Harper Brothers. This admirable novel, by an authoress who has newly acquired a high reputation among the writers of Northern Europe, purports to he the first of a series of translations by Mary Howitt. It treats in a most lively and agreeable manner, of the habits and cus- toms of a highly interesting people, of whom but little is known in this country. C. Juaics C~sAus COMMENTARIES on the Gallic War; with English Notes, Critical and Explanatory, a Lexicon, Index, & c. By Rev. J. A. Spencer, A. M. D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway. This is a very excellent edition of the commentaries, and the editor informs us the text is mostly that of Oudendorp, with such variations as a careful perusal of other wri- ters warranted him in making supplying thus from his own judgment such manifest corruptions as were not in accordance with the usual mode and style of Cnsar. LoITi~RcNes IN EUROPE: or, Sketches of Travel in France, Belgium, Switzerland, italy, Austria, Prussia, Great Britain and Ireland. By John W. Corson, M. D. Harper Brothers. This is the title of a very agreeable gossiping book on the scenes that presented them- selves in a two years tour through the countries indicated. WiLLIAM, THE COTTAGER. By the author of Helen Herbert, or, Family Chan~es. Harper Brothers. The fame of the popular author is well calculated to ensure the rapid sale of this no less interesting work than others already known to the public. ANGELA; a novel. By Mrs. Marsh. New York: Harper Brothers. This distinguished writer of fiction has earned a name that will long take good rank among modern authors. Good sense and high moral aim are the characteristics of her pen, no less than the more generally regarded attrihutes of powerful and picturesque por- traitures. DR. CHALMERSS PosTHuMous WORKS. New-York: Harper Brothers. We have just received the third volume of the Daily Scripture Readings of this cele- brated divine and philosopher. We have consulted the previous volumes of this series, and can conscientiously add our testimony to that of the many, whose opinions accord to these Posthumous writings the joint merit of the highest order of scholarship, with the must sublime devotion to the science of practical Christianity. HISToRY OF CoNGREss, BIOGRAPHIcAL AND POLITICAL; By Henry G. Wheeler, Esq. New-York: Harper Brothers. This is an important work, devoted to the personal and political history of the public men and their public acts at the federal seat of government. As a people, we are univer- sally interested in knowing something about those who participate in arbitrating our na- tional affairs, and the present work will be regarded as one of great historic value and interest. Such a work has been long required, and, appearing as it 4oes under such favorable auspices, it will secure the attention of all who regard our national progress Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity.

Notices of .A7ew Books. with any interest, or whose taste and pursuits lead them to the selection of works of permanent and solid value. The work is produced in beautiful style, and is embellished with portraits of the leading members of Congress. The volume, we judge, will be deemed indispensable by every politician, statesman and lawyer. PRINCIPLES OF ZooLocy, touching the structure, development, distribution and natural arrangement of the races of animals, living and extinct; with numerous illustrations, for the use of schools and colleges. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. This is a highly interesting and valuable work, admirably calculated to excite the at- tention of the learner) and lead him to examine thoroughly on of the most interesting branches of science. SELF-CONTROL; a novel. By Mary Brunton. Harpel Brothers. This sterling and popular novel has been embraced in Harpers series of cheap and se- lect novels. MORGANs AS~~ONoarY. The Practical Book of Composition: By Ed. A. Morgan. Ab- botts Institution. New-York. Clark, Austin & Co., ~O5 Broadway. The plan adopted in this work for teaching the elements of astronomy, is every way calculated to impress upon the mind of the learner those leading facts, the generalization of which will soon become to him.the source of the highest pleasure.. NOTEs EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL, on the General Epistles of James, Peter, John and Jude. By Albert Barnes. Harper Brothers. The high encomiums bestowed upon this avork are testimonies to its great usefulness. HISTORY OF THE GREEK ALPHABET; with remarks on Greek Orthography and Pronuncia- tion. By E. A. Sophocles, A. M. B. B. Mussey & Co., Boston, Mass. This is a skilful and apparently successful attempt to dedu~e from the most authentic sources a uniform system of Greek pronunciation, and is exceedingly interesting for its historical lore. DE Bows COMMERCIAL MAuAzn ~. New Orleans. This valuable work is published on the 1st of each month at New-Orleans, and em 13 races a great quantity of extraordinarily useful matter on commercial subjects. The papers on th~ great staples of the south are in the highest degree interesting and instruct- ive, as well to the philosopher and the merchant as the producer. The work is, for the S south and west, a highly interesting one. HUNTS MERCHANTS MACAZINE, This well-known and popular exponent of the mercantile interests appears promptly on the 1st of the month, and is well supplied with statistical and other matter of high value. The commercial literature of the country has of late years made great progress, and it is much indebted to Mr. Hunt for the rich vein of information and instruction he has opened in the valuable papers contributed upon subjects strictly utilitarian, by able and practical men, who otherwise were but little given to writing. In a popular maga- zine they interchange views and elicit mutual deas that are of vast bene t to the com. inunity. 7 ~-~ 6 /Y; / -~

THE IJMTLIJ STATES MAGAZINE, AND DEMO ~R Vol. XXIII. AUGUST, 1848. ~o. f~ IL TILE LIBERTY PARTY. TIlE approaching election presents F atures altogether novel in the hist~rv of our institutions, an(1 such as to make the American freeman, the n~ tional republican, the democrat from principle, blush for former fellowships. What is the picture presented by the two great parties, composed of the people, advocating certain principles of national government, and by the two factions formed of the drilled personal followers of disappointed party leaders? The whig p rty on one hand, have, in convention, nominated a leader by votes of a majority of its members. The democratic party have likewise, by a large majority, named the man who best represents the gene. rat principles for which the democracy of the Union have contended since the formation of the government. In makin~ these nominations both parties have been governed by experience in relation to men; and both have, in that respect, bowed to the will of the people. Mr. Clay h~s re- peatedly been before the people for their suifrages, and h~s as frequently been rejected. So perseveringly had the people plac ci upon him the seal of disapprobation, that warm friends and enthusiastic a(lmirers were forced to admit that his election was impossible. In like manner the democratic party became convinced that Mr. Van I3nrea had no longer the confidence of the American people ; and in the exercise of their ri ht, and in pursu- ance of the interests of the party, they nomim ted another. This nomina- tion met with a full ratification from the people, and in their response the triumph of principle has been perfected. It has resulted from the ~vorkinr of party tactics, and the in~uence of executive patrona~e upon the elective franchise, that these txvo rejected leaders retain a number of person I adhe- rents, instruments of former intrigues, sympathizing in that spirit of re- venfre attending disappointed ambition, and expectants, however desperate, of future favors, and these are now organized into lawless factions. They no longer represent the principles of either party, inas~ uch as that each s chosen other men, more worthy ~nd more reliable to carry out their view s They are but the reckless adherents of men in utter disrega d of principle~ a~ regardless of national xvelfare as they are determined up n disornranization. Nothing can more clearly demonstrate this fact, than toat these two factions draw to~ethcr on the common platform of boli V~n. Al ~l princ~nles, they coalesce in the pro.~ecumion af lie me n~ of v r FO that apparently pre~onts itself to both ; an I the followers of (by oross ha, d: with the adherents of Vata lSiiron, in the p s ~nce of ~:o. 130. cxxia. [August, 9S The Liberty Pw ty. abolitionists who had occupied the ground before them, and the support of whom each now arrogantly demands. Who has forgotten the time when each strove so earnestly to disclaim and to disprove for itself the character which each strove so earnestly to fasten upon the otherthat of being abolitionists in spirit and tendency? hence the rivalry of persecution directed, not merely against abolitions i, hut abolitionists; not only in the bad enouoh form of newspaper violence and abuse, but the still worse one of popular violence, ~vhich mobbed the preachers and lecturers, and burned the newspaper offices and halls of dis- cussion, of the obnoxious doctrinedoctrine to a certain degree, indeed, obnoxious in itself, but still more obnoxious from the danger supposed to exist, that the whole southern Presidential vote would go en masse against the party less forward than the other in this race of mutual disgrace. The persecutions of this character which attended the earlier years of abolition- ism at the north, gave it early a moral vigor and vitality which started it powerfully on the career of its destined mission. rihis has served, from the outset, to attach to it the attractive character of a doctrine, pure, phi- lanthropic, and liberal in its professed aims, yet persecuted, seemingly, in the worst spirit, and by the worst means of intolerance, brutality and cruelty. These mob persecutions were equally disgraceful in themselves, and injurious to the very object of their design. They nurtured the in- fancy of abolitionism into a hardy, energy of youth, to which every day was calculated to add increased force, progress, and boldness. However misguided were those men, and how Thsurd soever the policy they pursued of removin~, by unjust means, what they supposed an evil provoking the worst consequences of civil discord, to correct what at least was but a minor evil in a national point of view, and none whatever as far as the individuals were concerned; it cannot be denied that they were honest, that they commanded the respect due to those ~vho fearlessly avow and steadily pursue what they conceive to be a matter of conscience. Without feelings of personal revenge to gratify, or hope of re~vard to stimulate their energy, or support them amid the obloquy by which they ~vere surrounded, they were steadfast in the position they had assumed. With what strong feelings of disgust do we turn from this band of high purposed men; fana- tics though they are, to the despicable factions which, having been their per- secutors for years, now ask of them to become the instruments of their p~~- sonal revenge upon the American people. The motives of those factions are apparently as weli understood as their character for political honesty is appreciated. It has resulted, therefore toat the abolitionists proper h ye repelled their insidious advances, and refused connection with the treacherous leaders of disorganising cliques, who courted the support of slavery while it ~vas effective, and now cringe to its enemies in the hope of more successful combinations. On the other hand, the real advocates of free soil, arid the honest opponents of the extension of slavery into new territory, equally repel the suspicious intercourse of men whose principles, for half a century, have been the support of slavery, and in whose view expediency alone now prompts an attack upon it. It is probably the case, that out of one hundred thinking persons in the whole Union, north and south, ninety-nine are most anxious to get clear ot slavery. The landholders and citizens of the south are doubly anxious to discover sonie means by which the evil may be removed from their doors, because it is felt to he an annually increasing burden upon their resources. From economical principles it is becoming inure evident that the institution of slavery will fall into ruins, because it will not pay its own expenses. In f et, it appears, that su~ ~e ,OJ~ individuals are the nominal owners of 1348.] The Liberty P rty. 99 slaves, who produce a raw material on which the manufacturers of the world mainly depend for support. Two-thirds of the shipping of the United States is employed in its transportation ; two-thirds of the importations into the country, and the same proportion of the national revenue, are the result uf its sales abroad ; a large capital, and thousands of operatives, in New England and elsewhere, are kept employed by its means; millions of per- sons in Great Britain are dependent upon it for bread; one-half the whole exports of that country, say ~135,OQO,OoO out of $255,OOQ,OOO, are of fab- rics wrought from it; the success of British commerce, and the stability of the British throne, rest upon the supply of the raw material, and this supply depends upon the success with which a handful of men in the southern states can employ blacks in its production. From the nature of the employ inent, there is no escape from it. A planter with his one hundred slaves can- not regulate his business according to the emergency of the year. The Lowell manufacturer and the Manchester spinner, each with his one hun- dred white slaves, can, and does, when trade is paralysed and goods are low iii price, discharge the hands, cut short all expenses, and close the mill, until lessened production or reviving trade shall again have raised the price of cloth; he saves his money; and in England the dismissed operatives are corn- pelled by the flashing sabres of the friends of order, to starve quietly. Th~ l)lantel has no such resource; if cotton falls or rises, there is no discharge of operativesthey have the right to labor at all tinies and seasons; and when cotton falls in price from over-abundant supply, the only remedy is to aggravate the evil by making as much more as possible, in order that quan- tity may compensate for depreciation in value. in a long series of years the I)rice of cotton has been steadily downward,~ while the expense of pro- ducing it has not been greatly diminished. The result is, that the I)lanter has annually become poorer, and in the last ten years, two hundred millions, have been lost in the cotton states; out of seven crops, a sum equal to the whole raiueofthree of them, has been sunk; that is to say, more than that sum has been contributed by the capitalists of the north, and of England, to make up the losses of the planters, chiefly in the production of cotton. The planter finds and feels, that while he keeps in operation the manufactures, com- merce and trade of the two nations, his position alone is one of gi-eat hard- ship. danger, and generally of pecuniary loss. Thus, cotton at this time last year sold in New-York, at an average of 12 cents per lb. ; it now sells at 6 cents, involving a positive loss to the planter, whose expenses are in no- wise diminished, in Manchester trade has become dull, arid the manufacturers reduce their expenses by discharging hands: at the end of June, of 44,000 hands, 5,000 ~vere on short time, and 8,000 were out of employ, and of course, quietly starving. They have no right tolabor. It is obvious, that ~ AVERAGE ANNUAL raicxs OF COTTON IN TIlE UNiTED STATES. Years. cents. Years. Cents. Years. ceets. Years. cenis. 190 14t 1805 ~-3 1820 17 1S35 16j 1791. 26 1806 22 i821 16 1836 165-6 1792 29 i807.~ 211- 1829 161 1837 1~93 3-2 1808. 19 1823 10& 12 1838 io~ E94 3:3 1809. - 16 1824 15 1839 14 iOn 361- 1810 16 182~ 21 1840 8 1796... 361 1811 151- 1~2G ..s1 1841 10 1797 4 181-2 101 1827 - - 9} 184-2 - - - - 1798 39 3813. 12 1 - 1O~ 184:3 6 1790 44 814 i~ ~~9 - o 1844 8 1830 28 1815 -21 1830 - 10 1843: -- 1801 44 1816 291 1811 188-2 19 1817 261 1832 - - 1846 ..10 1847.... iii 1803 19 1818 34 1833 11 184~ 1Q04.... 20 1819 24 1 ..13 100 Tue Liberty Party. [August;, if the planter was not bound by the right of the blacks to labor, that such a fall in cotton as has no~v taken place would find one-half at least discharged. The migration of the planters from the old states to the fertile lands of the new, where the same expenditure of labor xviii produce more cotton, has been the only mcans of sustainin~ the culture ; but this mi- gration has cost the large sum we have indicated. This is a view of the case which seldom presents itself to the eye of the citizen of a free state. Its operation may be illustrated by a few figures. Thus, the census of the United States gives the number of pounds of cotton raised in the several counties of the states, and the number of slaves in each. In addition we have, among the evidence gathered by the Secretary of the Treasury, and contained in his report for 184.5, in relation to the erects of a tariff on sugar, answers from eminent merchants of Nexv- Orleans, giving the quantities raised on, and number of slaves attached, including house servants, old and young, to both sugar and cotton estates in Louisiana, as follows quantity raised. 11 uds. Average pee head. Sugar, lbs 119,947,720 50,670 367 Cotton 152,54.5,368.-- 93,220 1 636 The annual product of a slave is, therefore, 4 bales of 400 lbs. each. The average expenses of a slave for a year is 830, or say 87 per bale; bag- gi ug, rope, txvine, & c., $~.5t~ per bale; overseers wages, xve~ r and tear of & c. 8~Th50 freiTht insurance com gin, , , , mission, and other charges in Jew-Or leans, - ~4.50. These items make a cost of 14.59 per bale, worth now in New York an average of 6 cts. per lb. A bale of 400 lba in Nexv-Orleans will nett 375 lbs. in New-York, or at 6 cts. $22.50, leaving 8 00, which is swallowed tip in freight, insurance, commissions, & c in Nexv York. The planter is therefore at the loss of the interest on his clp~tal invested in land and negroes, mostly borrowed at an interest of S pci ceri~ per a mum, in addition to his household expenses. It is not alone the effective hands with whose support the product of the plantation is charged it is also the young, the sick, the infirm, and the aged. The expense of each indi~mdual of these classes is as much as that of the effective laborer, and in years of loxv prices for the staple the burden is very severe. In those localities that border upon the free states many planters seek naturally to relieve themselves of this burden, and they do so to a very considerable extent by nominal sales of old and in- firm slaves to traders, who t~ ke them into the free states and set them at liberty. It happens, however, by a very singular manifestation of philan- thropy, that those who are active in the cause of stealing sound and healthy slaves, discard and drive back the toil-worn and aged negro who has real claims upon humaiiity. because abandoned by tl~ose whom he has served in his youth. It is mostly against the increase of this class of helpless blacks that the laws of the western states against their ingress are directed. It is obvious that the losses to which planters are subjected by being com- pelled to produce cotton under all circui stances must be productive of evil re- suits. We have the painful evidence of this in dishonored states and bank- rupt institutions throughout the South, partiCtiid1l~ Li those nexv states mb which slave migration has been rapid. The cost of pi o(hll( io~ (At m a with the loclity, and scarcely txvo planters will agree in e~tmmnate~ of actual cost. The number of bales per hand is put don mm it from 4 to It m-~ generally admitted, however, that in ttmme rich lands of the nc iv ~tates cotton can be raised at half the cost of production in the old Atlantic st~,tee Ihe natural movement was therefore for plant(r5 to nice upom to~ IC XV I ~r 4 1848.] Tic Liberty Party. 101 and a combination of circumstances occurred to give this desire a strong impulse in the decade ending with 1840. In that period the population of the Atlantic States decreased, while the rich bottoms of the western states swarmed with enterprising men engaged in extending the cotton culture. This movement of planters and negroes upon new land involved a co- operation of capital with the enterprises of the planters. Without money the new lands could not have been settled, nor could new states have been formed out of wild territory. in a free state, the hardy settler, with his axe and rifle, works out for himself a home and subsistence, until the land which he clears yields its fruits in support of an increasing family. At the South this is not so. A planter who, with 60 to 100 helpless and de. pqndent negroes, moves into new land, nust have in hand the means of feeding them until his sugar and cotton are not only planted and raised, but sent to market Here, it will beseen at once, is a wide difference between the movability, if it may hew expressed, of the population of the North and of the South. For any considerable migration to take place in the latter sec- tions, a large supply of funds is indispensable, and circumstances furnished these. in 1831-2, money became very cheap in London, and, as a conse- quence, fond its way in great abundance all over the world. The South was not slow to avail itself of this circumstance, and banks were started in great numbers, on borrowed money. Nearly all the states borrowed large sums. Alabama $11,000,000; Louisiana $20,000,000; Mississippi, 67,600,000; Arkansas, 0,600,000; Florid; 63,900,000 ;altogether more than flOr 000,000 of state stocks were issued for money obtained in London. This money was used for bank capital, and loaned to planters and others. The mode of contracting these debts was for states or territories to au- thorize the issue of bonds bearing perhaps 6 per cent interest, and redeem- able in say 20 tears. These stocks were drawn in favor of some bank, and were sold either in England or the north for money. This money consti- tuted the capital of the bank, and was divided among such planters as deposited mortgages on their lands and negroes at a certain valu- ation, and they were charged 8 per cent interest The Union Bank of Florida, as an instance, sold in London, to Baring Brothers chiefly, 63,000,000 of territorial bonds, which are now repudiated, because sold on terms that were illegal. The proceeds of these bonds were divided amonj those planters who subscribed for stock by depositing their mortgages; an 61,963,800 was loaned upon 246,419 acres of land, at an average value of 68 per acre, and 6935,700 on 2,682 slaves, at an average value of $350, the actual value of each being estimated at woo. The mortgage of slavesmore- over, included theirfutureincrease; andunder the favorableclimateofFlorida, and the kind treatment which they universally received, it was evident, that before the maturity of the bonds, the number mortgaged to the bank would have been more than doubled. This was the general process by which the extension of slavery~ was effected? and it is to be remarked, that the securities for these dishonored bonds, held in London and the North, are slaves. The sums borrowed on public stocks formed but a small proportion of the whole amount applicable to this settlement of new territories. in Mississippi the Bank capital increased in the decade from $950,690 to 630,000,000, nearly all of which, like the Vicksburg and other banks, was subscribed during the spec- ulative years atthe North; and of that $30,000,000 nothing noy remains but mortgages on land and negroes, a large portion of the latter having been run to Texas. The loans of these banks renpd near 150.000,000, all secured on cotton property. As an instance. 10 directors of the Union Bank owed it $3,200,000, secured by 32,729 acres land, 410 slzLves, and 1,121 bales 102 The Li erty Party. [August, cotton. This demand for bank capital grew out of the migration of plant- ers from the old states, many of them Sons of old planters, taking 20 or 30 negroes from the parental estate, and migrating to government lands, mortga- ged the whole to Banks for capital to go on with. The consequence was, that in the period mentioned the sales of government lands in the new states were immense, and the slaves doubled as follows: NUMBER OF SLAVES IN NEW STATES. Alabama. Florida. Arkan. Louisiana. lississip. Tennes. Tot. New States. Old States. 1830 117.349..13 Oil.. 4,376.. 109.388.. 63.639. .141,603..433,986. .1,533037 1340 233.332..23.717..19,939.. 168,432.. 193,211..18~,039..843.906..1,641,449 Increase.. .136,003 10,706 13,363 58,364 129,932 41,436 391,920 86,392 The aorrre~ate natural increase of all the slaves was, in this decade, 24 per cent.; and in the old states the increase was only 5~ per cent. In the old northern slave states the result was as follows Del. Maryland D. c Vir~ioia. Total. 1830 3.292 102.994 6119 469,737 1,143,164 1840 2.603...... 89737 4,694 446,987 1,116.876 Decrease 687 13,237 1,423 22,770 26,288 This gives an actual decrease of numbers, showing a migration of 312,OSS blacks. The quantity of government lands purchased in the de- cade was 20,182,240 acres, in the states Inentioned; in the last ei2ht years it has been 2,031,47 acres only. The effect of this was to triple the pro- duction of cotton in the new states, and to keep it stationary iti the old,* while the United States consumption has so progressed as to exceed the production of the latter. It results from all these facts, that what is called the extension of svery, or the migration of slaves from one state to another, generally northeast to southwest, was brought about not alone by the annexation of new land, but by sinking 200,000,000 of foreign capital in the process; and this process has so far advanced the cause of free soil, as to have actually diminished the number of slaves in the northern slave states, pro. motiur in those states an increased au~iety for the further extension of sla- very, in order to make their own free soil. The newly combined Van Buren free soil party says, no, you shall never be free states, because we intend to confine slaves where they now are, and prevent them fromn ever passing off in a southwest direction ; that is to say, the territory of California and N e~ Mexlco inhabited by Mexicans, and reputed as utterly undesirable for h-ihit tion it ~s fe tred will draw off slaves from Maryland, Virginia, Dela- ware Jissourt 3nd k~niucky, and render them free soil states. They prefer file. l.a t be bows the total an. nal crops of United States cotton, the number of acres of land srr ,, . . ,, in ti nw at te tao erowth of cotton in those states the growth in the old states, and the anneal co-a ainatien of the ljnid States lees I al Tot. U. S Tot. New States Old St. leo. U. 5. conseeption. 183 1616 33 .1,670,438 536,430 513,988 191,4tz 18l ~ 4 .1,2)4,394 641,433 567,959 186,413 t8b 8 14 .1,254,328 760,926 493,405 216,888 1638 e8ot81 . 788,01.3 -a736t 36~.. 1 1 1 33 81 1 4T~ 968 916 960 3~6 t08 222 AO tot- 83 066 36] 497 1 047234 74 263 248061 163 811 46 136 3 911913 448619 2,6068 16 4u1 303 1 88984 66031 09, 191 3651 226689 163491, V31314 403(att 0r15036 18- 3160 168411 1164389 519820 s8s3 1044 201 09 ~8 1 0., 048 f~a8 03 93 3041 904 55 ~(3469 I 4-t573 584 o8, 41 11 20 ~s8 2194)03 1 6loOta 0408 39006 1~1 2)1 a3 210a ass 1 600 991 044 42 597 1647 aol 6 1 SOat 1151294 s-al 4296 1 40010 38 903 1848.1 Tke Libert2, Party. 103 free soil in distant and unknown states, to freedom in our fertil neighbors! These details, in relation to the chief production of the slave states, and that on which so many other interests depend, indicate the general fact of the instability of the cotton culture ; that the position of planters is such as to induce continued chan~e in order to sustain existence; and that credit and new fertile lands, at nominal prices, have been necessary to maintain the blacks in the right to labor. The same general facts indicate the pro- cess by which the institution must ultimately fall to pieces. The true phi- losopher and the true patriot should be anxious that the dissolution should be so gradual as not to disturb, in any degree, the political relations of the Union, and to form, pan passu, such social circumstances, as may make the ultimate freedom of the blacks less disastrous to them~ elves and burden- orne to the white population. There are two errors industriously propagated hy the political intriguers both of the Clay and Van Buren branches of the iSaruburner faction; the one is, th t the old states breed slaves for sale in the new, and the other, that white labor will not co-exist with black. in relation to the first matter, it is sufficient to say, that the blacks do not breed any faster in consequence of the export of young ones from old states to new. On the other hand, the a ~gr egate increase of slaves per cent. is less than that of the whites. Thus in the ten years, ending with 1840, the increase of ~vhites in the slave states was ~E5~ per cent., and of slaves ~3.8 per cent. only, showing that the natural increase of the latter was nearly 3 per cent. less than the former. This alleged breeding process is, therefore, a chimera, and no less so is the statement, that whites do not migrate into slave slates. in Virginia, the proportion of whites increased from 57.4 per cent. of the whole population in 1830, to .59.8 per cent. in 1840, arising from export of blacks, and the increase of white settlers, mostly farmers from northern states into western Virginia. It is well-known that the immigration of free whites into Texas is very large, probably in the proportion of 50 whites to I black. As an indication of the practical fact in relation to the co-existence of white with black labor, we may compare the progress of Illinois with Missouri, which be- came a state in 18~21. The progress of the population is as follows: MIS5OIJLI, SLAVE STATE. ILLINOIS, F EN STATE. Whites. Blacks. Whites. Blacks. 1820 66586 10,596 53.788 1423 1830 114,793 25,tiOO 153,061 2.384 1840~ 3t3,83S 59,8t4 47-2,254 3,929 1844 456,918 71,464 657,223 4,902 The admission of Missouri as a slave state was attended by an excite- ment that threatened the stability of the Union, and the cry was then as now, that the presence of slaves would keep out free setlers. The result shows how false was that cry. The proportion of the white population to th whole number of inhabitants was in 1830, 81.7 per cent.; in 1840, 84.4; in 1844, 86.4 per cent.; showing a constant increase in the advance of the white or free population, and convicting of gross falsehood the assertion that the presence of slaves keeps out white labor. The true reason that white labor does not increase faster in more southern states, is the physical im- possibility. An unacolimated person cannot labor without imminent risk of death from sickness. It usually requires five years residence to become acclimated so as to labor there with the impunity with whi6h a white native may. A negro does not require to remain a day, or a week, to enable him to labor in those parts of the South without fear of the diseases of the climate. Indeed, the white man, whether born on the spot or elsewhere, is 104 TA. Liberty Party. (Augest. always far more subject to disease from the action of malaria and the heat of the sun, than the negro who baa just arrived. As few white laborers can afford to devote five years to becoming acclimated, a very limited number are tempted by the much higher wages, or other return paid, (than at the North,) to get their living by agriculture in such quarters. This is a good and sufficient reason why the more fertile portions of the S9uth have failed to receive a due share of Northern and foreign emigration. In North Carolina, Virginia, South Carolina, Mississippi, Arkansas, & c., where white men may labor with impunity, the market facilities are by no means as good as everywhere in the North-west, which is better supplied with navigable waters than any other interior country on the face of the globe. The vacant lands of Virginia and other Southern states, lie at points from whence produce must be wagoned up hill and down dale from one hundred to three hundred miles, to reach what may fairly be termed the market, in the heart of an abwsdmnt country. When the nature of the country permits the ingress of white labor, as in the case of Missouri, it goes there without reference to the presence of slaves. The legal slavery which exists at the South is a hardship for owners, more so than for the blacks, whose physical comforts are promoted by their right to labor, a right which brings with it its disabilities, but which is nevertheless sought to be established by European philanthropists, as well as by some branches of the free-soil faction among us. The political disar biities which it imposes on Southern blacks, are somewhat greater than those which the same race labor under at the North, where they have not the right to labor. Iii the latter section they have no vote, and in some states not the right to settle, and in state legislatures no representation; in addi- tion to this, they labor under social disabilities to an extent greater than at the South. In ilustrationofthis, we may relate an anecdote, that within a few weeks passed under our own immediate observation. As usual with the ,families of many planters, the lady of a Southern gentleman came North to spend the summer at the Springs. She brought with her her muiatt6 waiting maid, an intelligent, trustworthy servant On reaching Cincinnati, the lady addressing her maid, informed her that she was now free, at liberty to come and go, when and where she would. Mary expressed her thanks and attended to her duties. On the following morning she informed her mistress thatawbite ladyhad called upon her, and askedher togotoa lawyer well-known in Cincinnati, who would put her in a way to assert her freedom. Mary was grateflul for such disinterested kindness, but informed her visitor that she was already free. She did not therefore fall into the ann set for comely Creoles by diaisstereated agents, under pretence of giv- ing them freedom. On arriving at New-York, her mistress said one morn- ing, well, Mary, we are now in the great city; as I suppose you want to see the shows, you can have the day to yourself Being attracted by the fiamin; signs of the Museum, Mary made up her mind to go there. She accordingly ascended the flight of stairs and asked the price. Price! for what? said the door-keeper. To go in, said Mary. We dont ad- mit niggers. Thats very strange, at home I can go to any show if I pay. Dont know about that; you cant go in here; just step aside, youre in the way of persons coming up. Mary, rather chap-fallen, and withal fatigued by walking in a warm sun, called an omnibus to go home. .Tehu cracked his whip, and informed her niggers could not ride? This .new instance of freedom ratherincreased her disappointment, and she being thirsty, walked into the corner and asked for a glm of soda water. Dont sell soda 1S48.] 7Y~C Lilerty Party~ 10i to niggers, was the response, and Mary returned to her mistress, hoping soon to return to the South where niggers are free. This unconquerable aversion of the North to social intercourse with blacks, except in the capacity of servants, is a disadvantage that probably counterbalances to a very great extent the political condition of tbe s~me race and it is felt by blacks who have lived at the North to be by far a greater, and in ore constant evil, than the fancied ones nrising from their polit- ical condition in slave states. Their physical condition in the latter section is so superior to that of the lower classes in all other countries, resulting from the right to labor, as to make amends for a deprivation of the right of votina. That there are some instances of cruel treatment on plantations is doubtless the case, but they are rare exceptions, and occur always on the estates of those who, living at the North, entrust the management to n overseer, xvhose passions ~re not restrained by the necessity of preserving property. Where the planter himself lives upon his estate, not only does he care heedfully for the health and comfort of his peope, but the family naturally become exceedin~ly attached to those about them, nd brought un with them.* The institution of slavery being from the operation of economical cau- ses, necessarily temporary, and its evils as well as its advantages and politi- cal responsibilities confined to the people among whom it exists and who choose to adopt it, the gratuitous malevolence of those who seek to distract the democratic party, and loosen the bonds of our federal union for the pur- pose of forcing upon a free people local laws that may be adverse to their wishes, becomes more marked. That imperial England should practice such a policy in relation to her dependencies, or that the old federalist party should advocate it in this country, would hot be matter of surprise in this age of the world; but how great is our astonishment, when we find not only self-styled democrats, but of all former members of that party Martin Van Buren, becoming the instrument of this anti-republican treason. That he, of all other men, should make an oppressive interference with the local rights of a distant people the means of again forcing himself before the people as a candidate for office, affords a solemn warning to the people how they place confidence in men. How have the democratic party clung to and honored that man How have credulous and trusting men reposed confidence in his honor and faith in his statements, and how miserably have they been deceived! As an indication of the position occupied by Mr. Van Buren, we extract from the columns of this Review, soon after the Convention of 1844: Mt. Van Bucens career as a statesman is now, therefore closed; to use his own emphatic though melancholy word, forever. Nor, indeed(strongly as we * Tbe followin0 touching note would scarcely be imagined to be the description of the death of a joe, bx th olvuer of hundreds, and a most estimable lady: 1 nsa a Southern Mother to her Daughter. X\ eli my dar in t xx rote on a cheerful letter yesterday, because I could not bear to pain You Led lneait Bm t ex ci tidin s take the wings of the wind, and as yen will hear them, I think n s bent to tell oc mx sell. On Tuesdcv we buiced our box Nelson; you can well imagiuc my sorrow and distress. It has bc~eu a cep xd btfer trial to too. Gcd has given me siren gui to support it. On Friday, lice, xx an a Lre ~nd he xx oil ed at the engine, became exhausted and convulsed from driukin0 cold xx ater it xva~ scipponed, lie had ~x er aid of t1xe ont physicians, and all that care and leinduess could bestoxv. But alas. it was of rio avail. The poor fellow breathed his last breath cit eleven, free from pain. The physicians macic a post mortem examination, and found he had ruptured a blood-vessel which bad caused ills death. if they had consulted me, I could not brive given perinis- scon. But it was Ortunate, perhaps, they did so, fur no human aid, we now know, could have saved bins. Oh ucy child, this has been a great affliction to your jeer mother, a A it was more dreadful because you were ot here to comfort inc. 1043 The Liberty Party. [August, would desire to deprecate the resolution he has him4eif avowed)is it likely that in any f)rn1 or capacity he xviii ever allow himself to be again (Irawn forth from a retjrement amply provided with all the elements of domestic happiness, into any further active participation in political affairs. Posterity may be said to have now bega~ for him, even while yet in the prime of ~OWC~5 abundant to earn for their possessor another fame, no less honorable than that which a life of patriotic public service has already made his. All truth may now be spoken of him, alike by friend and foe. To the latter he is no longer an object of dread or of part~zan animosity. * ~- * * * * Some of Mr. Van B ureas opponents have urged against him the charae of pressing forward upon the democratic party for its re-nomination. On such judges his Missouri letter, which we know to have expressed the sincerest senti- ments of his heart, disavowing any such desire, and declaring his determination not to allow his name to be made any occasion of discord in his party, is wholly thrown away. Yet never was imputation more unjust. Most (if our readersall indeed hut a very fewwill now receive the intelligence for the first time, that after his defeat in 1840, he was only prevented by the earnest remoastrances of his friends, from ranking a similar positice and final withdrawal as lie has now made. But enough. It is time now to turn over the leaf in the book of events, on which we confess that we have found a grateful but melancholy satisfaction in thus for a brief while liagerin~. It is time to say Good Night to Marmion ! We take leave of Mr. Van Buren from the stage of political affairs, with eniotions which shrink from public utterance. Others may hasten to the mountain-tops to wait in eager impatience for the first ray of the mornings da~ a; we are reluctant to withdraw oar gaze of reverential homage and admiration, from the glories streaming over the departure of the sinking, the sunken sun of ti e day now forever past. Such were the universal sentiments indul~ed hy those trusting men who came in personal contact with Mr. Van Buren, who regarded him as the honored of the American people. These views in regard to Mr. Van Buren were entertained in common with the following sentiments in rela- tion to free soil, contained in the same number of this Review: If, on the other hand, that experiment (annexation of new soil) shall not prove successful, so as to disprove the asserted possibility of the co-existence of the txvo races and two colors, side by side, on the same soil, in a relation of freedom and equality of rights, how can any of the friends of either desire to keep them forci- bly peat up within the limits where every day is tending faster and faster to fer- ment the discordant elements into a result xvhich threatens To be the desolation of bothinstead of opening this safety valve by which the noxious vapor m y pass off harmlessly and insensibly? Crowd, then, your population into the Southern states as you may, rapidly and without fear. Texas xvill open before it as an outlet, and slavery retiring from the Middle and Southern States of the present confederacy, will find for a time a resting place there. But only for a time. For the irreversible law of population, which decrees that in a densely peopled region slavery shall cease to exist, will emancipate Texas in her turn, and the negro will then pass to a land of l)olitical freedom and social dignity under a genial sky. He will pass without civil convul- sion, and tearing no domestic ruin in his path. As his labor becomes less and less valuable, emancipation, a gradual, progressive, at last universal, will pass him over the southern border to his more appropriate home in Mexico and the states beyond. What now do we find after a lapse of four little years. This Mr. Van Buren, the honored of the democratic party, whom no circumstances were ever again to draw forth in the political arena in any form or capacity, is become the leader of a joint section of xvhigs and disunionists to oppos this very plan of passing slaves into new territories that his warmest sup~ porters here advocated! What a lesson is here of politic I honesty I flow have we, the people, to lament that men so trusted should become so treach~ erous; that the possession of power should leave a desire so ungovernable, 1848.] The Liberty Party. 107 that no consideration, social, political, or patriotic, can restrain the badly ambitious from again attempting to grasp even at its shadow. Mr. Van Buren again thrusts himself forward even on the ground of a geographical division of party, of all others the least effective for popular triumph, and the most dangerous to our federal union. The policy of those who seek to create geographical division in the party is precisely that which Washington indicated would be that of badly ambi- tious men, viz. In contemplating the causes which may disturb our Union, it occurs as matter of serious concem, that any ground should have been furnished for characterizin~ parties by geographical discrimination northern and southern, Atlantic and western, whence designing men may endeavor to excite a betiel that there is a real difference of local interests nod viexvs. One of the expedients of party to acquire influence zc~thtn particular d~stricts is, to misrepresent the opinions and aims of other districts. When Mr. Van Buren, in his spirit of revenge against the American people, sought to promote disunion, his agents and organs pursued that identical policy of rnisrepresentin~ the opinion and aims of other dis- tricts. The daily press is filled with denunciation of the fancied attempts of slave holders to keep freemen out of the territory, and numberless other fabrications not worthy of being recounted. It is to be observed that this union of whiggery with Van Burenism is by no means a new one, nor is Mi-. Van Boron its on inn tor; he has not even the merit of originating the treason he is prosecuting. In 1804, Thomas Jefferson, writing to Gideon Granger, described, with a pencil of light, the party and its frauds, which Mr. Van Buren has now revived for the aratification of his own malevo lenceas follows In our last conversation you mentioned a federal scheme afloat, of. forming a coalition between the federalists and republicans, of what they call the seven east- ern states. The idea was new to me, and after time for reflection I had no oppor- tunity of conversing with you again. The federalists know that eo noinine they are gone forever. Their object, therefore, is how to return to power under some other form. Undoubtedly they have but one means, which is to divide the repub- licans, join the minority, and barter with them for the cloak of their name. 1 say join the mi. or~ty, because the majority of the republicans, not needing them, will not buy them. The minority, having no other means of ruling the majority, will ~?re a price Jbr auxiliaries, and that price must be principle. It is true, that the federalists, needing their numbers also, must also give a price, and principle is the coin they must pay in. Thus a bastard system of federo-republicanism will rise on the ruins of the true principles of our revolution. And when this party is formedwho will constitute the majority of it, which majority is then to dictnte? Cortainly, the federalists. Thus their proposition of putting themselves into gear with the republican minority, is exactly like Roger Shermans proposition to add Connecticut to Rhode Island. The idea of foiming seven eastern states is, more- ocer, clearly to form the basis of a separation of tile Union. Is it possible that real republicans can be gulled by such a bait? And for what? What do they wish that they have not? Federal measures? That is impossible. Republican men- sures? Have they them not? Can any one deny, that in all-important questions of principle, republicanism prevails? BUT DO THEY WANT THAT THEIR INDI- VIDUAL WiLL SHALL OVERN THE MAJORITY? They may purchase the gratifica- tion of this unjust wish, for a little time, at a great price; but the federalLts must not have the passions of other men, if, after getting thus into the seat of power, they suffer themselves to be governed by their minority. This minority may say, that whenever they relapse into their own principles, they will quit them, and draw the seat from under them. They may quit them, indeed; but in the meantime, all the venal will have become associated with them, and will give them a majority sufficient to keep them in place, and to enable them to reject the hetcrogeneou Os The Liberty Party. [August, friends by whose aid they got again into power. I cannot believe any portion of the real republicans will enter into this trap; and if they do, I do not believe they can carry with them the mass of their states, advancing, so steadily, as we see them, to an union of princi~)Ie with their brethren. It will be found in this, as in nil omer similar cases, that crooked schemes will end by overwhelming their au- thors and coadjutors in dis~race ; and that he alone who walks strict and upright, and who, in matters of opinion, xviii be contented that others shonld be as fiee himself, cad aryviesce where his opinioa is fairly overrated, will attain his object in the end. And that this may be the conduct of us all, I offer my sincere prayers, as well as for youi he~dth dad happiness. THOMAS JEe ERSOQ Again, in lS2~3, when this identical question of free soil, convulsed the Union, the immortal sage wrote to Lathyette, as follows: On the eclipse of federalism with us, aithon~h nat its extinction, its leaders got up the Missonri question, under the fdse front of lessening the measure ot slavery, but wih the real view of producing a geographical division of l)artieS, which might insure them the next President. rrile people of the nGith xvent blindfold into the snare, followed their leaders for a while with a zeal truly innial and laudable, until they became sensible that they were injuring instead of aiding the real interests of the slavesTHAT THEY HAO BEEN LTS ~O MERELY AS TOOLS von ELECTIONEERING PU POSES : and that trick of hypocrisy then fell as quickly as it had been got up. The arm of Jefferson yet reaches from the grave to strike these revivers of the old federal scheme of disunion. The entire attempt to dictate to the people of another territory lawin which they have no voice, and on a subject confessedly without the juris- diction of the federal government in old states, is at war with republicanism as well as with our institutions. The genius of our union is self-government, and yet northern men who call themselves republicans are bent upon forcing upon a distant people a municipal law without their consent or repre- sentation. The thirteeii old states were all slave states, and each exercised the right of establishing or abolishing slavery of its own free will. it is now urged that upon this question, in relation to xvhich ol states are individually sovereign, new states shall be shorn of their sovereignty, and that they shall exist in a state of vassalage to the northern states. The people of territories are in every resoect entit led to yet I policy hitherto self-government, ~e pursued has been to govern them as if they had no voice in the matter. Tb control of territories has formed a part of the pernicious patronage of the federal government, which has rewarded partisans by appointin~ them to office over our colonies, and paying them from the federal treasury, which process has been the prolific source of misgovernment and corruption. The obvious remedy for this is, to allow the people of the territories their inherent right of self-government, to appoint people from among them- selves to administer such laws as they may find it necessary to make; while the expense of their support will then become at once the check upon toe) much legislation. Such laws as are in strict accordance with the xvill of the people will then only find being, and who has a right to demand any other? As we have said, the people of Missouri adopted slavery probably for no other reason than that the north sought to deprive them of their inilienable right to do so. IA ad the question never been started, it is more than probable that slavery there would long since have ceased to exist; as it is, the time is not far distant when it will be abolished. We have shown that in all directions slavery is hecomin~ more unprofitable, and all that revents it from ceasing where it has already become so, has been the injustice which seeks to do- prive the American race of rights. 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 10 To Iso F km of Ike Democratic Review: I have comuled with a eat pleasure, Mr. Editor, with your reenest to ransack my poe ~cedc aol to collect for puhiication in the Democratic Review the scattered and alne~~ foi aotten leaves of my travelling journal, which contaiu the reminiscences of my vss~t to 11am some three years since. The grand and solemn events of which France ha~. so unexpectedly become the theatre these last few months, and the consegnent change in tiiO hsth~ to melancholy fortunes of Prince Louis Napoleon, invest necessarily every itenh of infoi mit on ~onching him with additional interest and importance. I see no reason in the old tmn why my recollections of this distiagn~shed personage, that have, at least, the mc it of fiueity, shoald he withheld, and the less so, that neither here nor in Europe does there most any knowledge t all correct either of his intellect, character, or opin- ion I-I conduct and acts have unlbrtunately given rise to nsnch well-founded prejo 0 e avh ch his enemies, with malicious zeal, have employed greatly to his disad- va~o e bit had either circumstances or his inclination favored, it was at all times in his poxa ei to di~pel the thick cloud of calumnies which have for years hun0 over his reputa- t~cii as d t I a stepped forward m~d vindicated in pishlic esteem at lcast the heaviest portlais of the accusations against him. In the record I have reserved of hi ream I s it will iso coca that the secret history of the affair at Boulogne is for the rst tnie iven 10 the pub lic of Europe and of this country, and it caimot fail to exonerate Prince Louis entuely froni all charges of isnprovidence or folly. Not to detain you, sir, any lcngei I will merely explain that the following pages were iistended onimnahy to appeas us a book I meditate publishisig oii France, and I purposely indulged in a fullnes of dotad is cant o il lustrate the condition of that country-, and that would have been appi op ate ennuIs rhe-e, hut may be tircsomo iii the more sententious columns of a maaazsne 1 nov are wistten, too, with ass otse.ndoe that was at that epoch very characteristic of my style but in which maturer taste now sees much to disapprove. To veisture on alterations that I mm 1st d em necessary, would expose me, in all probability, to the labor of witing it onto c1y a sew and, therefore, I hand it over to you with all its imperfections ois its head to do with it even as you wilt, with a strong recoisimendation to the mercy eif critics and the kind consideration of your readers. I-heNRY Wicors PRINCE NAPOLEON LOUIS IflINAPARTE Ix passing from Philadelphia to New-York in the summer of 1845, just previous to my departure for Europe, I sto~sped at the really princely residence of the late Jose1)ls Bonaparte, ex-Kina of Spain, to make mes a& ese.. to its present owner, the young Prince ne ilIus~6ncteso, who, having inherited this, along with other valuable prep rty in this country, from his grandfather, bad just arrived from Italy to take poshessiun. The few brief hours to tvhich I was limited sped rapidly in the gay society of my affable host, and his intelligent companion, M. Maillard, and we had barely time to glance at the numberless and splendid objects of art ammd curiosity which embellished this luxurious mansion, xvben a serx-ant arm nounced the approach of time New-York train. As I was hurrying away the Prince remarked, You regoing to France; why net make an efliert to see my unfortunate cousin, Princ Louis. He ~vill he glad, I ant sure, to meet an 01(1 acquaint nce, and I should be delighted, on your return, to receive personal tidin s of his health. which, I am distressed to lemtrn, is sadly deranged by hiss iinpnisonntent. If

1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 10 To Iso F km of Ike Democratic Review: I have comuled with a eat pleasure, Mr. Editor, with your reenest to ransack my poe ~cedc aol to collect for puhiication in the Democratic Review the scattered and alne~~ foi aotten leaves of my travelling journal, which contaiu the reminiscences of my vss~t to 11am some three years since. The grand and solemn events of which France ha~. so unexpectedly become the theatre these last few months, and the consegnent change in tiiO hsth~ to melancholy fortunes of Prince Louis Napoleon, invest necessarily every itenh of infoi mit on ~onching him with additional interest and importance. I see no reason in the old tmn why my recollections of this distiagn~shed personage, that have, at least, the mc it of fiueity, shoald he withheld, and the less so, that neither here nor in Europe does there most any knowledge t all correct either of his intellect, character, or opin- ion I-I conduct and acts have unlbrtunately given rise to nsnch well-founded prejo 0 e avh ch his enemies, with malicious zeal, have employed greatly to his disad- va~o e bit had either circumstances or his inclination favored, it was at all times in his poxa ei to di~pel the thick cloud of calumnies which have for years hun0 over his reputa- t~cii as d t I a stepped forward m~d vindicated in pishlic esteem at lcast the heaviest portlais of the accusations against him. In the record I have reserved of hi ream I s it will iso coca that the secret history of the affair at Boulogne is for the rst tnie iven 10 the pub lic of Europe and of this country, and it caimot fail to exonerate Prince Louis entuely froni all charges of isnprovidence or folly. Not to detain you, sir, any lcngei I will merely explain that the following pages were iistended onimnahy to appeas us a book I meditate publishisig oii France, and I purposely indulged in a fullnes of dotad is cant o il lustrate the condition of that country-, and that would have been appi op ate ennuIs rhe-e, hut may be tircsomo iii the more sententious columns of a maaazsne 1 nov are wistten, too, with ass otse.ndoe that was at that epoch very characteristic of my style but in which maturer taste now sees much to disapprove. To veisture on alterations that I mm 1st d em necessary, would expose me, in all probability, to the labor of witing it onto c1y a sew and, therefore, I hand it over to you with all its imperfections ois its head to do with it even as you wilt, with a strong recoisimendation to the mercy eif critics and the kind consideration of your readers. I-heNRY Wicors PRINCE NAPOLEON LOUIS IflINAPARTE Ix passing from Philadelphia to New-York in the summer of 1845, just previous to my departure for Europe, I sto~sped at the really princely residence of the late Jose1)ls Bonaparte, ex-Kina of Spain, to make mes a& ese.. to its present owner, the young Prince ne ilIus~6ncteso, who, having inherited this, along with other valuable prep rty in this country, from his grandfather, bad just arrived from Italy to take poshessiun. The few brief hours to tvhich I was limited sped rapidly in the gay society of my affable host, and his intelligent companion, M. Maillard, and we had barely time to glance at the numberless and splendid objects of art ammd curiosity which embellished this luxurious mansion, xvben a serx-ant arm nounced the approach of time New-York train. As I was hurrying away the Prince remarked, You regoing to France; why net make an efliert to see my unfortunate cousin, Princ Louis. He ~vill he glad, I ant sure, to meet an 01(1 acquaint nce, and I should be delighted, on your return, to receive personal tidin s of his health. which, I am distressed to lemtrn, is sadly deranged by hiss iinpnisonntent. If 110 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, you should succeed, tell him * * * * * * And say also that my cest wishes arewith him. I relate this simple circumstance because it explains in a word why I formed a resolution on the instant to get an interior view of the Citadel of Ham, if such an eaterprise should prove at all compatible with the very rigid notions of political seclusion entertained by Louis Phillippe and his ministers. During my stay in London 1 mentioned my project t6 sev- eral friends of Prince Louis, who thought the idea rather quixotic, as the government suffered no relations of any sort to be kept up with the lone captive of Ham. The late well-known refusal to allow one of his family, sojourning by permission for a few days at Paris, to visit him, was sug- ested as a proof of the impracticability, if not absurdity, of my hopes. There was one individual, however, whose views were more sanguine, and I was naturally more disposed to coincide with him; but there were better reasons still to rely on whatever advice he gave. Ii am speak- ing of the far-famed Count Alfred dOrsay, whose reputation is spread over the fashionable world of Europe and America, but whose real merits soar much beyond the frivolous accomplishments which have given him such wide celebrity. To be celebrated at all, no matter by what means, be they high or low, elevated or vulgar, talent I consider is indispensable; and to obtain the social position held at one epoc.h by a Beau Brummell, and at a later by a Count dOrsay, nothing short of mental superiority of a high cast is requisite. This idea is fully supported, at all events, in the l)reseiit instance, for I have seldom in any rank cf life, or amongst the higher grades of em~)loyment, encountered intellectual qualities of rarer excellence than those which distinguish a man chiefly known in the light of a vain c8rpet-kuight. An elegant and fascinating man of the world he un- doubtedly is. An adept in dress, easy in mariners, accomplished iii the conventions of the drawing-rooma science apart, made up of the dictates of good breeding and the requirements of etiquettefertile in conversa- tion and of brilliant wit, the Count dOrsay is certainly well qualified to realise our visionary ideas of that paragon whom the poet describes as the mould of fashion arid the glass of form. These, ho~vever, are rather the endowments which would secure him pr~emirience in the country of his birth; for France is, par excellence, the land of society, and to succeed there grace of manner and charms of mind are indispensable. But in England the case is very different; and Count dOrsay, with all his savoir faire, would never have reached the position he has held for so many years unrivalled, without an equal skill arid proficiency in those ruder, but still manly accomplishments, which constitute the basis of his English popularity. The best rider, most daring sportsman, the skilful bet- ter, the inimitable shot, the unrivalled sparrer, these are the merits towering in English eyes and which have made his name so long in England familiar as a household word. Of later years, abandoning these grosser occupations, lae Ins, with that well-pbised effort which never falls short of its mark, and which explains his marvellous success in all he has undertaken, given him- self wholly up to art, and his productions in painting and statuary have already thrown the world of taste in commotion, and are building him up a reputation which, if less sounding than that he has hitherto enjoyed, is infi- nitely more enviable. But to me the attractive feature of Count DOrsays character has always been what the promiscuous ~vorld he lives in knows nothing about, and that is, his cultiVated and aspiring intellect, which, in depth and keenness, is adequate to the comprehension of th& grandest ques- tions, and capable of estimating them accurately in their nicest details. His knowledge of men and things is extensive and rare, and hi s criticisms 184S.] Prince XapoUon Louis Bonaparte. 111 overflow with point and finesse. It is little imagined by the giddy crowd around him whose dullness is enlivened by his wit, that the showy man of fashion is a studious thinker and careful writer; and that the muments of leisure, stolen from the gay dissipations of the London world, have been de- voted to the record of his impressions on life, numbering some seven vol- umes of manuscript. Their merit may he inferred from the glowing praise bestowed by Lord Byron on his travelling Journal, written when only 520 years of age. In a word, Count DOrsay may be esteemed beyond corn- l)arison, the admirable Crichton ofthe day, and 1 have cheerfully allowed my- self to run into this digression concerning this remarkable person, as so en- viable a chance may never offer to give the result of many years observa- tion of a character variously interpreted, and little understood. It may he supposed, then, that his judgment has always been held by me in high esteem, and in all matters of small, or of greater pith, there was no one whose counsel I would receive with more consideration. He was an old and much attached friend of Prince Louis, and. therefore, of all per- sons, just the one to decide me on the feasibility of my proposed visit to Ham. I consulted him at once, and in his off-hand, racy manner, he re- plied instantly: Thats a good idea of yours. Yes, go and see Prince Louis, and give him the strongest assurances of our unabated interest in his welfare. Say how much his numerous and powerful friends in London deplore the wretchedness of such an imprisonment, but to be of good cheer, as ~ve leave no opportunity untried to shorten his sorrows, since it is nuhap- pily out of our power in any way to mitigate them. I dont know whether you are aware, continued the Count, that the health of his father, the ex- king of Holland, is drooping fast, and that his sole remaining wish is to em- brace his unfortunate son oPce more. Tell Prince Louis that we are all exerting ourselves to the utmost to gratify this last earnest wish of a dying man, and that I gladly availed myself of the late presence in London of M. Thiers, to speak to him on this subject, and to urge him to use his position and influence ~vith the King to accomplish this pious object; and say that 1 received from him repeated assurances that both lie and all the leadin~ members of the chambers, would exert their best offices to that effect. There is nothing, I replied, would give me more pleasure, Count, than to he the beater of such consoling tidings; but you have overlooked one quite important point, that I came to Gore house expressly this morn- ing to consult you about. How in the xvmmrld can I manage to reach the Prince Louis, and what influence can I bring to bear on the French gov- ernment to induce them to listen a moment to such an application from a simple private gentleman, and an American to boot l You have hit it exactly, returned this ready tactician. Just because you are an American the government xvill be puzzled on what ground to refuse your request. I will tell you what to do, Employ no influence, at- tempt no intrigue, and give no trouble to your amba,ssador, but simply write a letter to the Minister of the Interior, saying that you are a resident of the United States, an old acquaintance of Prince Louis, and from friendly mo- tives, desire to pay him your respects during a brief visit to France. This advice struak me as excellent, and I promised the Count to carry it literally into effect, and let him know the result. Perhaps it was a fortnight after my arrival in Paris, during which I had abandoned and resumed my project half a dozen times, that I suddenly, one day, sat down and wrote to the Minister of the Interior, in the manner and to the 6ffect suggested by Count DOrsay. A week elapsed and no reply whatever. I be- began, by degrees, to feel no little mortification at the contemptuous indif- ference of the puissant government of the barricades for what, I frequently 112 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [Augus, represented to myseig was a perfectly polite and reasonable application from a free-born American citizen. It is really amusing, but not the less true, that an American abro