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 abroad scarcely ever gets into a passion with the impertinences or impositions of foreigners, whether governments or in(lividu- als, than he instantly falls back on his reserved rights of American citi- zen ship, and takes comfort in the somewhat vain and pharisaical reflection, that lie is not as these men are ; ridden over and trampled on, an(l obliged to submit unmurmuring to injuries arid insults ; but a glorious descendant of the men of 76, independent, and if need be, pugnacious. I was gra- dually working up to a rebellious pitch, and a second weeks silence on the part of the government only tended to deepen my vexation, and render me a very fit subject for the treasonable designs of a conspirator against the sta- bility and well-being of the famous government of July. It was very stu- pid, though, it occurred to me one day as I returned home ruminating, that I did not insertin my letter to the iMinister the gentle hint that my stay in Paris was brief, and that, if his excellency, Mons. le Ministre, enter- tained the smallest idea of gratifying my request, that he would vastly in- crease my sense of the favor by doing it at once. Eli bien, Pie~ re, no ans~ver yet, I said to the porter on entering my hotel. Non, ~Jlionsi ur, ces gucux des ministres (Pierre ~vas no Phillipiste) would have too little to do if they attended to their business at once. Brrt I will not give it up, I muttered to myself striding oW I will write him a~ain, and have an answer one way or another. As I crossed the court-yard I met my landlord, who wore the important air of a man who had something to communicate. - You will he surprised to learn, h~ sabi, that an officer of police has been here this hour past talking with my wife. Not at all, I answered, for every body knows that Madame is a very attractive person. Vous ~tes hic aimable, lonsieur, but it was not to see my wife that he came, but to look after you. I started, sure enou~h, with astonishment. Look after me, I ex- claimed in some trepidation, trying meanwhile to recall what peccadilloes liable to fine and imprisonment 11 had committed durin.~ roy visit to Paris. Somewhat reassured by my retrospection,I demanded boldly what business a police officer had with me. Why it appears von have been writing for permission to go see the Prince Louis. Well, and are they going to arrest me for that ? Why, that depends returned mine host si~nificantly. But the immediate object of his visit was to gather for the satisfaction of the Minis- ter what information he could cmccrning you. His inquiries were numerous touching your position, your pursuits and connections ; hut, es- pecially whether you had any politic 1 motives in ilesiring to visit Ham Well, I hope you gave me a good character 1 No better thnn you deserve, said my old fri end, with a polite how. The French nei er lose ~iu o~casion to compliment; and, fter all, it is pleasant, especvilly in in tters where one s doubtful. We told him tie continued, th~ t we bad known you for ten years and upwards. bat you were man of fortune ; fond of travelli ~g; of si odious habits thouTh like all other youn~ nen But no conspirator al events, I interposed. As to that we id we wer~ mr - ccst d dire, that we (lidot believe ~S487j Prince Napo?eon Louis Ronaparte. 11 iS ~for you know one must be very particular what they say to these ~tle- men of the policethat you had any political designs whatever i r~eek- ino to visit the Prince. We did not think it necessary to disg& ~ that you had been for years intimate with many of the Imperial fami5r, and my wife told him all about the flattering mission you performed ~r king Joseph .~ There, I think you have done it; for when the government hear this, they may grow distrustful and refuse my request, on suspicions en- tirely groundless. Never fear, for to my great amusement the officer grew deeply in- terested in these details; and what with talking about the Emperor, these relics, and his sad fate, his blood grew warm, and it was clear, that he would put no difficulties in your way, or any bodys, to oblige the maiheur.- mx captive of Ham. Well, what was the end of it, and did he hold out any early pros- pect of my getting a favorable return to my application ? Yes, he thought it was in his power to give such information as would attract the notice of the Minister; and he intimated, besides, that the gov- eramerrt was rather inclined to favor in the Prince the cultivation of an * The matter here alluded to was a trust of some importance confided to me by the Count ~ie Survilliers, (Joseph Bonaparte,) in 1836, when about quitting Paris to join my post at the .Americaii Legation in London. Many interesting and valuable objects belonging to the late Emperor Napoleon had been for several years secreted in Paris, but his brother, to whom they were bequeathed, had resolved on taking possession ot them. He had requested his friend the Duke of Sd to take them in charge, but learnio~ that t was coming direct to London, the Count wrote requesting me to bring them over. I accepted the honor, though alarmed by the responsibility. The value of these relics was immense, composin amongst others, the grand coltar of the Le,ion of Honor, worn by Napoleon on his coronation day, ~f gold, and studded with innumerable diamonds of the finest water. There were besides various jewelled snuff boxes, presents from the soverei~ns of Europe; his sword, formerly wore by Frederick the Great; his own orders and decorations, etc. But what interested me fhr more than these gaudy gems were several cases of clothes and books, which had come from St. Helena, the contemplation of which brought the Emperor more vividly before me than even all the anecdotes I had he~ from members of his family. As the trunks were opened one after the other to certify the various articles they contained, and my eyes fell successively on his linen, coats, uniforms, hat, and a pair of red slippers much worn, I felt as if 1 were looking down into his tomb, and ~azing on his body, so intimately associated were these objects with his august person. The sight of the dark grey overcoat so often drawn in pictures of Napoleon overlooking the sea from the rock of St. Helena, filled me with emo- tion, and I gazed on it till I am not sure a tear did not glisten in my eye. I was obliged to sign numerous lists, verifying the receipt of the articles enumerated, and in my life I never sixperienced anxiety like that I suffered while they were in my possession. After leaving Paris, I was detained, unfortunately, two days at Boulogne by a violent storm which in the winter season is not uncommon in the English channel. The steamer refused to venture out, and I was compelled to find what amusement 1 could in this dull town. The chief source of my annoyance was the precious baggage I had with me, which began to attract attention in the hotel. Most of the cases were marked with the imperial cipher N., and curiosity took wing. My mysterious reserve only increased it, and I heaan to feel no small alarm. Theres no trusting French enthusiasm about Napoleon, and how did I know that once satisfied that this property had belonged to him, that not content with stealing all the brass nail from the boxes, they might, blinded by their frenzy, think robbery no crime, and lay their irreverent fingers on whatever they could get hold of. The very apprehension kept me close prisoner to my apartment, and I often got up in the night to count the cases over, to find that no advantage had beer taken of my slumbers. At last, I bad the good fortune to get safely to London, and deliver up my commission intact to King Joseph. I observed he was greatly affected at the view of these souvenirs which were ladened with so many recollections fraught with pfeasure and pain Whilst the lists were examining, and the articles laid out on tables, be would approach and regard them intently till he could no longer master his emotions, and then walk away. A kinder and truer heart never heat than that of the late Count de Survilliers, and his devotion to the Emperor, history constantly attests it, was ardent, con- stant, and disinterested, up to the very last, when he came to Rochefort to offer Napoleon the certain means of escape which he had secured for himself, but which the Emperor re- jected. Not long after the small service related, I received from the Count a most flattering letter of acknowledgment, together with a silver goblet which had belonged to the Emperor as a token of his satisfaction. VOL. XXI~LNO. cxxii. 114 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, Am an acquaintance, as they were exceedingly desirous that he should niak bat country his home in case he ever got out of [lam again. ally, a very sensible desire, and it would be a very satisfhctory mode, indee of disposing finally of a somex hat troublesome obstacle to the fu- ture f unes of the house of Orlean. N~estpas mon ami. So sa ing, I mounted to my salon, and congratulated myself that, at last, tHis ster le silence of the Minister was broken, and that my request had not entirely fallen to the ground. I was naturally led to indulge some pun- gent -reflections on this detestable system of espionage, which, not satisfied with the results of its open machinery of passports, must needs thrust its secret fangs into the private affairs and history of any luckless wayfarer that happens to cross its path. This taking an inventory of ones character and habits was rather, I found, more novel than agreeable, and awakened sensati& is that, in spite of philosophy, bordered a little on the indignant. It is certainly no easy matter for an American to break himself into all the hurniiating restraints and exactions which belong to the degrading vas- salage under ~yhich Europe still suffers. I doubt, indeed, whether during any epoch of the feudal period, France was more completely tyrannised over than she is n this year 45 of the 19th century. Her government, plac- ing no reliance on the sympathies or good-will of the nation, lives as were in an entrenched camp. Besides an army of 400,000 men, the coun- try is strewed over with gens darrncs, and the cities are crowded by well dis- ciplined corps of Gardes lunicipales. But this apparently is the least effect- ive part of its means of security, for it spends millions on an immense but in- visible force of secret police, which makes it an especial business, like the inquisition of the middle age, to introduce itself, unknown, into the household concerns and opinions of people, whose names and sentiments are registered, and which may at any moment bring down on their head the spiteful vengeance of the government. It is with difficulty an Ameri- can can believe that, after so many revolutions and heroic struggles, the French enjoy no more personal liberty thaii~ a hundred years ago. They cannot travel from one toxvn to another wit~out a passport, arid to be found without it leads direct to a prison; and even when quietly reposing at home they are under the constant surreillance of the secret police. It is n bad proof of the popularity of a government, to compare the funds employed on this odious army of spie~. In Napoleons time the sum ~vas very small, but under his successors the amount has gone on increasing, till in the budget of the day it is set down as twenty-two millions, though that is probably only a portion. This scandalous institution was organised under the despotism of Louis XLV., xvhose purpose was chiefly political, but his licentious succes- sor put it to another and still more disgusting use. Who could believe, that after the horrors and lessons which the revolution of 1789 had administered to monarchy, and after the radical reforms of the Emperor, that Louis XVLiL., on his return to France in 1815, followed by the same corrupt class of nobles who had derived no wisdom from their long exile, dared deliberately to renew, in all things, the same system of government which had once been engulphed in an ocean of blood. Amongst the rest this disgraceful relic of former abuse, the secret police, was restored, and with more than its ancient vigor. To show that I do not exaggerate, I will give a brief ex- tract from a book just published 1)y Ale s Punesrtil, entitled the Social Trials of France. It is speaking of the close of the reign of Louis XVI LI., when prevailed a loathsome mixture of debauchery and false devotion, and the picture traced, repulsive as it may be, is all the more valuable as reveal- ing the just and deep causes of popular hatred for the iniquities of the ]3ourboa Court: 1S48.J Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 115 The moment, says my author, that the police of the kingdom was put in the hands of Director Franchet, fanaticism and hypocrisy received a new impulse. Every day the affected zeal of churchmen made sensible progress, and every day also became more impenetrable the veil of false religion under which was con- cealed the most abominable license. On every side nothing was heard of but young girls seduced, and married women whose virtue was corrupted under sa- crilegious pretexts; whilst with similar plausible deceits, friends were secretly de- nounced and persecuted. Who can say how many were led away by these mystic orgies, and to what extent of baseness women were degraded by a servile spirit of faction. Thus Madame Franchet was required to share with her husband the di- rection of the secret police, and at certain hours she was obliged to come to the King, and amuse him with the ignoble recital of the many scandalous adventures of the capital, in which he greatly delighted. For it should be said, that from the time of Louis XIV. the Bourbons liked nothing so much as putting their own hands on these secret springs, and Louis XVIII., while deriving infinite relish from these disgraceful revelations, nevertheless attached great importance to whatever reached his ears by these subterranean channels. Thus it is seen, that under the Restoration, the police became the very soul of the government, which it rendered every day more suspicious and meddling. And the Jesuits, adding their own in- quisition to that of the throne, a new system of espionct~e, (of spying,) was estab- lished, between which arose a novel emulation of baseness and perfidy which sur- passed all that had hitherto been seen of the kind. The police put its foot every- where, and corrupted the most sacred obligations of society. There was no pro- fession, assembly, or company, that did not pay it shameful and cowardly tri- hute. rrhe Chamber of Peers, the Chamber of Deputies, the French Academy, all classes of the Institute were infested with miserable spies; they swarmed in the city, in the court, in the bosom of the church, and in the heart of the army. Old generals of the empire, and the most renowned of the opposite parties, were personally in communication with the Director Franchet, and they sold their an- cient brothers in arms, their proper friends, just as they had before sold their Em- peror, and afterwards betrayed the secrets of state. What faith can be reposed in the counsels or oaths of such heroes ? This was the state of things but some five years before the revolution of 1830; and if credulous people suppose that any reform or abandonment of these vile practices followed that grand national flutter of three days, let me assure them they are most egregiously mistaken. I have seen and known enough to be convinced that nothing short of another earthquake, or pro~ bably a series of them, will make the rulers of France shake off their old tastes and habits, and set to work sincerely to acquire new. I do not think it worth while to apologize for this and every digression I shall continue to make, for one of my chief objects in this sketch is, to give my reader a pas.- sing glimpse of France as it is, and not merely to intrude my egotism upon them. To go on with my story. It was the next day, I think, after the visit of the ministerial scout already noticed, that I received a summons to repair to the Prefecture of the police. Whats coming now? I wondered; is it a. personal interrogatory that I am to submit to? I began to entertain serious notions of abandoning my trip to Ham, rather than undergo all the annoyances likely to accompany it. But then, it occurred to me the occa- sion was excellent to add to my information of how things are managed in France now-a-days, and my curiosity was as lively on this point as the sen- timental voyagers of time past. llavin~ fortified myself with a goodly as- sortment of very circular replies to the directest questions that could be ad- dressed me, I drove to the Prefecture. On the announcement of my name, my business seemed perfectly known, and I was conducted to the cabinet of * This was exactly the habit of Louis XV., but that was before tbe revolution of 1789. I is clear from this that more revolutions may be expected. [August, 116 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. one of the numberless under-secretaries, where I was received with great courtesy. The party in question advanced with a paper in his hand, desir- ing me to be seated, and, after an interchange of polite remarks, came to the point. The government, he said, had received my requestcould see no possible good reason for not entertaining iton the contrary, the govern~ ment was most happy to have it in its power in any reasohable way to aid in mitigating the p iinful imprisonment of the Prince Louis Nopoleonthat, to he sure, they were under the disagreeable necessity of refusing numerous applications to visit him, from just apprehension of unpleasant consequen- ceshut that, in the present instance, no such objection whatever existed.~ I am exceedingly happy to hear it, I replied, with a cordial salutation; and when may 1 anticipate the favor of heing allowed to set off? I was just going to add, replied the formal official, that the Minister would have taken great pleasure in acceding to your wish, but he has been informed that Prince Louis has declined receiving your visit. Indeed, I drawled out with an emphasis that conveyed my undis- guised ast(inishmeflt. Yes, I assure you, continued the functionary in his blandest manner; the government would have deemed it quite unnecessary to interfere in this matter if his Highness had manifested the smallest concern about it. Then, I may rely upon that ? I asked, rather abruptly. Oh, undoubtedly. I hope you will accept my positive assurance on that point. I do so most cheerfully, and with a view to prove my entire confi- dence in your word, have the goodness to read this; handing him a letter I drew from my pocket. The Secretary of the I~refecture of Police read it rapidly over, then turned it round, examined the postmark, and exclaimed in some confusion: Why, this is a letter from the Prince, dated yesterday, expressing his desire to see you at your earliest convenience Exactly so; Monsieur, I received it fortunately as I left my hotel to come here; and as there is now, by your declaration, no difficulty what- ever in the way of my departure, I need not assure you that I shall he greatly indebted to his Excellency, the Minister of the Interior, for per- mission to go as soon as possible. There must, certainly, be a mistake somewhere, returned the Secretary, very much puzzled. Vous avez raison, Monsieur, nothing can be clearer, and taking care to recover my letter, I withdrew. I have related the scene at the Prefecture just as it occurred, nothing extenuating, nor setting down aught in malice, and to this day I have never obtained a clue to the mystification. I had reason to know before I got his letter that the Prince would be happy to see me, and, therefore, the mistake of the government is all the more inexplicable. It would be excessively indelicate to imagine, for a moment, that such high and mighty persons could condescend to a trick, or even give way to ~t lively itch for a practical joke. Therefore, I will not imagine it; I prefer, rather, to live on with my curiosity ungratified, and content myself with the charitable conclusion, that mistakes will occur in the best regulated governments. No later than next morning a lancer galloped with con- siderable fracas into the court-yard, and touching his hat a la militaire to the porter, handed him a formidable-sized missive from Son Excdlcnce, le lllinistre de linterieur for Monsieur he took a look at my name, but galloped off again without venturing to pronounce it. A Frenchman can 1848.] Prince Napoleon Lozsis Bonaparte. 117 never pronounce anything he cant frenchify, and my Russian patronym is an overdose for most of them. Yes, sure enough, here was a letter from the Minister, all stamped, signed, and sealed with the arms of Prance, directing the commandant of the Citadel of Ham to allow the bearer (named) to communicate with Prince Louis Bonaparte. Well, thats settled. Now, Baptiste, I said, turning to my servant standing by in mute expectation, have the carriage at the door to-morrow morning at 9 oclock, and oiler the postillions to be exact, for I mean to reach Ham (a distance of 30 leagues from Paris,) by nightfall. Ti-es bien, Monsiur. II. Baptiste was one of the most punctual of valets, and every thing passed off the ensuing morning with due regularity. I had hardly finished my breakfast, when the cracking of whips announced the arrival of those debris of a bye-gone epoch in scarlet jackets and high jack-boots, ycelpt Postillon, with their tough little horses, their tails tied up, and their harness none of the newest, whose neighing and kicking, mingling with their masters swearing, convey the impression of a competition between them as to which can make the most racket. Snatching up that pot pourri of newspapers, delicious Gailgani, Ij umped in; Baptiste mounted the imperiale, gave the word en avant, and away we went slap-dash amid the barking of dogs, and the cries of bon voyage from my landlord and landlady, and all the servants of the house who had clustered around. What a droll set the French are, and how readily they seize a pretext to do nothing, and talk about it; and how they love a sight, no matter whether great or small ; whether the coronation of an Emperor, or a traveller starting on his journey. Out they come en masse, master and mistress, the porter and his wife, all the he and she domestics of the hotel, and last, not least, the corpulent cook with his white cap of paper. Toey group around, taking in reality (theres the wonder,) the liveliest interest in the most familiar details; talk kindly to the postillion; discuss the horses; inspect the carriage,but none think of looking to see if the linch-pins are all right, as a Yankee would(This is a defect in the French, they never look after their linch-pins in government, or anything else, and the consequence is, every now and then they come down) Then they turn round to exchange sentiments on these obvious nothings, with the same gravity as if they were weighing affairs of state in the balance. Yes, they are a droll set, these dear French, in the eyes of an American, who never talks unless he has something to say, whereas the French talk for the mere love of the thing. These and simiiar, were my first reflections whilst rattling over the stones of the metropolis; and as I cleared the Barriere, at which end of Paris I do not know, I opened my Galignani, and took a ddightful souse in that capacious reservoir of news. That done, I lolled hack in the well-cushioned corners of the carriage, and began to think, as I sometimes do, of what I was about. Goino to see Prince Louis, said I to myself. Oh, yes, thats very true, replied mysdf to I, but what are you going to see him for ? That was a puzzrer. It was five years ago, in London, April, 1840, on my way to America, that I met him for the first time at the hospitable table of his uncle, the Count de 118 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, Survilliers. That dinner I shall ever remember, not only that it was the last time I shared the bounty of King Joseph, but from other interesting circumstances. Amongst his distinguished guests that day was the Countess of Merlin, whose late husband was one of his closest friends and chief officers during his stormy reign in S pain. Her presence seemed to arouse his feelings, and he conversed with more than usual animation. It was his habit to remain silent during the repast, occa- sionally drinking wine with some one he sou~ht to honor, and when the hurly burly of eating was over t& begin talking. As every body knows, the Countess Merlin is one of the most accomplished female strategists that the saloons of Patis have ever seen, and with infinite address she drew her former Sovereign hack to the realms of his ancient power and grandeur; and kindling ~ith his recollections, the floodgates of memory opened, and the whole co ipany sat for an hour and upwards, intently listening to a variety of curious and thrilling anecdotes that no history will ever record. Perhaps the deepest effect produced on me was the frequent and familiar mention of names royal and noble, that historians utter with reverence; above all, was I strangely affected when speaking of the Emperor, he applied to him as he constantly did, the affectionate phrase, startling from its novelty, of mon fr~re, my brother. The great charm of King Josephs society, the divinity that hedged him round, was his extreme simplicity of manners, and total ahsence of pride of any sort. I can hardly illustrate it hetter than by citing an occurrence I once witnessed in his drawing-rooms. A lady of high rank was about hiddino him adieu, when overcome by her feelings of affection and ancient loyalty, she knelt down, and kissed his hand, a common mark of homage to reigning kings. Joseph seized her instantly by the arm, raised her up, saying reproachfully, Madame, and to my astonishment his cheek reddened. To relieve the embarrassment of the lady, he quickly broke a twig from some flowers standing near, and gallantly presented it with a good natured smile to his former subject. it was natural that a man at his age should have been touched by this delicate stroke of flattery, for Lear, amid the wreck of his fortunes still remembered that he was every inch a king. But this was the charac- ter of Joseph Bonaparte, as all will confirm who knew him in this country.* Simple, engaging and amiable, of sound understanding, benevolent heart and elevated character, he was loved as a king and respected as a man. But to return to Prince Louis on the occasion above related. I was for- cibly struck by his military aspect, affable manners, intelligent face, pale and slightly tinged with melancholy. Our conversation was necessarily for- mal on a first meeting, hut the acquaintance began well for me, as I was in- vited to take a seat in his carriage on leaving, and he politely let me down at Fentons Hotel. I niet him several times during my brief stay; hut in * Some two or three years a~o an anecdote highly characteristic was related me hy Hon. Charles J lnwrsoll, the legal counsellor and friend of the late Count de Survillierst, during his lon~ residence in this country. One day when they were together, the cony ersaino hap- pened to turn on Prince Louis, who was well spoken of hy his uncle, his parts commended, and his patriotism applauded. hut yet it is his misfortune, he continued, that he has heen hrought up as a Prince. He has a great deal of valuable experience to learn, that I picked up easily in the rough school of adversity. Had Louis heen compelled, as I was, to look ahout for a livin~, he would he less inclined to risk the solid comforts of his position by engaging in perilous conspiracies, though I am willing to do justice to his motives. This plain reference to the misfortunes of his family was the more creditahld, as he was the most fortunate of all his brothers, having married the daughter of a rich hanker, whose sister was afterwards espoused by Bernadotte, and is the still survivina Queen Dowa er weden. 8481 Prznce Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 119 the crowded drawing rooms of London in the height of the fashionable season, connected conversation is out of the question, and I could form, therefore, no conclusive opinion of either his character or intellect from personal observation. [I.e w. s living, then, in very luxurious style; oc- upyin~ one of the finest mansions in London, on Yirlton Terrace, over- looking that lovely park of St. James. his position was enviable, indeed; surrounded by a species of court, feted, and sought aft .r by the highesi yank of England; regarded with interest an(l curiosity hy the publi in general ; a great name, a romantic history and imperial pretensions, he might fairly be considered one of the most fortunate of princes and one of the most blest of mortals. And there are, indeed, few who could have risen above temptations so attractive; but that Louis Napoleon was not a man to. bestow his whole time and thoughts on the vapid amuse- ments of society, though far from indifferent to them, is cle arfrom the fact of his publishing durino- his London residence, a very striking book a a entitled, The Ideas of Napoleon. vrhis book made a great sensation at the time, and was translated into every language of Europe. A die- inguished statesman of England spoke of it in this wise: Since the fall of Napoleen France has been divided into two hostile corps. On the one side are the men of order and auihority,~ but who have not the sent~- roents of the masses, and who, consequently, canuot obtaiu their confidence. On the other side are the men of popular priociples, it is true, but whose ideas of liberty, badly conceived, are incompatible with authority, and they know nothin about government. But the author of the Ideas of Napoleon~~ has taken a new position in causing to flow from the very principl s of lib rty a grand idea of orde and authority. Without stopping to discuss the merits of Prince Louis Commentaries on the Emperors ideas, which are certainly remarkable, I will quote a passing criticism on its style. It conveys a better notion of the Princ& s powers, as I have since discovered, than any other I have seen: us mind is lucid, firm, direct, like all intellects which regard from a height, far and swift, and cast in a synthetical niould, which is a result of the study of the exact sciences. The Prince Napoleon renders his thoughts with clearness, preci- aion, and brevity; as many ideas as words. It is like a cannon ball which strikes before we know whence it comes, or what road it has followed. The mark, has it been struck? the thought, is it expressed ? is it clear? is it terse ? is it true? The Prince desires no more, and he passes on to another. There is something of the genius of Napoleon in this, and of the mould in which his conceptions were formed. It was only a few months after the period of which I am speaking that I learned the event which caused such universal astonishment; his rash at- tempt at l3ouloo-ne and its signal and niortifying failure. his fault, his folly, or his crime, as it is variously viewed by different parties, he is now expiatin~, and the rigorous captivity of several years is a bitter penalty for the dreams of a too sanguine ambition. As far as I could analyse my own motives in undertaking this visit, beside the honor conferred on me, it was to discover, if possible, the secret origin of those enterprises of Strasburgh and Boulogtie, which really seem so reckless, and, at first sight, so unjustifiable. What prompted them? merely a thirst for action, or the vanity to wear a crown. Upon what means did he rely? the en *These words I wish fo explain, have a deeper signification than that they bear on the stir- face. By autkorzty ,s meant a strona government, that is, again, aboveroment of the old style, an absolute, despotic government. It is with these antiquated ideas of government, but deep- seated and widespread, that the liberty men are coniending, and which keeps Europe con- stantly in agitation. 120 Prince N~zpo1eon Lo~tis Bonaparte. jj Angust, thusiasm of the masses, or well-combined plans of attack. And what was to be the result if he succeeded? the idle possession of power, or the holy application of it to the benefit of his country, the suppression of abuses and the advancement of liberty There are so many conflicting accounts ann rumors of the character, sentiments, and very generally of the inca- pacity of Prince Louis,* that I felt a very ardent anxiety to satisfy myself as far as possible on these not unimportant points for, notwithstanding that I have been a good deal jested with lately on the matter, I still main- tam that the chances of Louis Napoleon to the French throne are a good many per cent, better than either of the Bourbon branches, and whyt because, in a word, he is a Bonaparte, and they are Bourbons. With the former is allied democratic associations and sympathies, for Napo- leon, though of noble family, served a plebeian apprenticeship to fame5 and rose to power through his own efforts and the support of the people; whereas the latter are identified with centuries of tyranny; crime and suffer- ing, and found their claim on hereditary possession and not in the right of election. The Imperial dynasty, in the eyes of the people, represents their own sovereignty and the cause of the evolution; whilst the old regal~ line is connected with ideas of reaction, and a return to the hateful days~ of prerogative. Yes, I believe, nor have I scrupled to assert it, that whenever it may please Heaven to remove Louis Phillippe and his system, and both seem indissolubly united, that the curtain will rise on. a new play, full of action, exciting scenes, unlooked for catastrophes, the ~vhole to conclude with a grand tableau ; in which, if my imagin tion does not carry me away, will appear, amid the blaze of feux pyrotech-~ niques and the firing of cannon, Louis Napoleon, as Emperor of all the ~rench, and some hordes of Algerines. This seems very improbable at the moment when M. Guizot is so serenely sure of his power that he hardly takes the pains to hide his game, but plays it out right openly. Bet whilst his eye wanders complacently over the surface, mine is busy J)iercing the depths beneath and this soil of France is volcanic. Who can tell at what moment the crater will open and the lava pour forth ~ Every man should have a reason for his opinion; and why I think Prince Louis has a hold, and a strong one, on the popular mind, is npon these grounds. The masses everywhere reason clearly and ~o the point; never bothering their brains with fine spun theories, hut deciding on facts only. The French people, mind, I say the people, have logically resumed thus: We were tricked in 1830our wretchedness is unabatedwe are beyond helping ourselves; blessed be the friendly hand that struck at the incubus that keeps us down,that hand is a Bonapartes,that incu- bus is a Bourbon ;when we are up again we shall act accordingly. There is no sophistry here, for these are events of history; and, in my * Touching this point of character I am grati d to quote from the Lo don Examiner the, following ohservations of Mr. Fonlilaeque, its editor, who is admitted to he not only one of the ablest writers of England, but one of the most upri0ht and estimable of men. Many scornful allusions, he says, have heen made to Louis Napoleon, and we, for our own part, have not been sparing in our comments on his silty attempts at Strashurgh and Boulo~ne. lie has had his follies, but it is most unjust to take the measures of his character from those follies; and all who know him will agree that, apart from his pretendership, which latterly has heen in obevance, he is a thoroughly sensihle and well-informed man. lie has had much. prejudice to ucounter, and not unnaturally, hut he has overcome it, in whatever circles he has moved, by his good sense, his urbanity, and unaffected manners. Whether he is the man for the destinies of France may he discussed without a personal dispara0ement, which is really as little necessary for the solution of the question, as it is undue. When it is rememhered how easily Louis Philippe was overihrown, the attempts at Straa~ burgh and Boulo0ne seem less sillybut of that bye-and-bye. 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 121 view, Prince Louis, though ridiculed for his failures, is only endeared the more to the popular heart. Oh, hut his motives !say the other side. Again I repeat., the people rarely stop to weigh motives. With their rough sagacity they have discerned that there is nothing so uncertain and mixed in this world as mens motives. Were patriotism, philanthropy, and the whole catalogue of virtues thrown into the crucible, the irigredi- ents for tile most part would thus he resolve(]: 5~ parts for others, 6~ for self. This, I beg to remark, is what the people think. For myself, I have much loftier and more romantic notions of the motives of patriots and philanthropists. I have seen so many of them in all places. Well, the French people, then, care not a whit for the motives assigned to Prince Louis, nor even for those he really entertained, be they for their good entirely, or partly for his own. All they know and will remember and there is no gratitude so long-lived as the peoplesis, that he came down twice tilting at Louis Phillippe; and whether, in his Quixotic en- deavors, he was followed by one Sancho Pauza, or sixty; or whether he had a live eagle, or a dead one, hanging at his saddle~bow,* is to them, severally and jointly, a matter of very profound indifference. At all events, that is my opinion, as the man says in the play, though I may be mistaken. How many hours I spent in these pro- found cogitations, I am not aware, but they were suddenly put to flight by the abrupt announcement of Baptiste, as if he were in a hurry to say it, that we had got to Gompeigne; Very glad of it, I answered, for I am hungry. Order dinner instantly; meanwhile Ill stroll through the town. Declining the services of a valet deplace, for I hate to be bear-led about; and on the other hand, delight especially in wandering through a strange town surprising myseW and wondering what in the world that place is; without having every thing rattled out by a loquacious cicerone in advance. From long habit I rarely lose myself, and when I do, am greatly amused in trying to find myselfwhich sometimes hap- pens to the politicians, but with less success than generally attends. my efforts. But once only in Moscow, of a dark night coming from the Theatre I got into a downright fix, and liked to have been run through by a dozen outlandish Cossacks, standing as sentinels at the corners, for not replying to their horrid gibberish,because I couldnt. Cbmpeigne is rather a fine town, and celebrated for its palace, where Napoleon in 1810, first met Maria Louisa, but I had no time to go and see it. The streets, like all French streets, are some of them long, some of them narrow, and most of them dirty. Here and there is a fine opening called a place. The houses are of stone, very old-looking, and more resembling fortresses built to resist those feudal robbers, who, in the middle ages *1 inquired when in England (last year,) into this often quoted story of the live Eagle, and, to mx surprise, really found there was something in it. Count DOrsay thus related it from one of the actors therein. The steamer c~ rrying the expedition stopped to take up its complement at Gravesend, and, as might very well happen in this crowded seaport, a sailor was standing on the quay with an ea~le to sell; a speculation of his own. Voila sine hells idee ! exclaimed one of the sprightly cavaliers, whose invention was !ikely sharpened by a bottte of Sillery 2VToussenx, heres a good idea. ill huy this eaale and fly it over Boulogne The greengrocers who will likely assail us, will imagine it has heen hatched hy the Em~ perors monument, and drop their muskets in awe and wonder. The experiment, however, was never tried, for the poor eagle was taken prisoner ahoard the steamer, where he was for- gotten, and Prince Louis never heard of the joke until he saw it afterwards in the papers. However, as leaders get all the glory, they must expect to bear their share of the follies their followers. Prjnee Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, used to rush in and fleece the burghers, than the convenient and airy dwellings which better suit our pacific times. The shops, like all French shops, are neat and attractive; their goods tastefully hestrewed with a nice eye to effect. I dropped into several, more to have a chat than to make purchases; thats the wayI recommend it to young travel- lers,to pick up information. And in France the shops are so inviting; perhaps because they are reigned over by the ladies. How odd it looks to an American to see a woman keeping the books, watching the clerk~, and exercising supreme authority; whilst the poor wretch of a hus- band, if he is there at all, is somewhere out of the way, meekly em- ployed in the humblest details of his business, trusting fanatically to the wit and blandishments of his helpmate for quick sales, and good profits. And who can stop to haggle with them, so charmingly dressed; so ele- gantly co~ffi; or so gaily decked in their neat caps and cherry-colored ribbons. And they are not afraid of the police, not they; and they know as much of politics, and more, than the maire of the commune. But for the women a traveller could know little of the popularity of the minis- ters out of Paris; and I should infer from what I picked up in Corn- peigne, that when the present dynasty goes out of office, no body will put on mourning. Gobbling down my dinner, for I had lost time talking politics, I was done in ten minutes, and as Baptiste closed the carriage-door on me, I ordered him to keep the postillions hard at it without counting the pourhoire, for, I added, je suis, bound to go through. Plait -t-il ? queried Baptiste, quite mystified. Nimporteen avant, I said, waving my hand. I love to use an American phrase now and then in a foreign countryit comes so pat; is so expressive, and puts one in mind of home. Baptiste is sorely discomfited by this wantonness of mine, and no doubt regrets his barbarous ignorance of the English language, little dreaming that in America we have set up phrases of our own that would perplex a Cockney as deeply as a Greek Idyll. To while away time, I picked up a French book I brought along with me, entitled, The Chateau of Ham, published in 1842. The author had been one, he says, of the very few who by skilful contrivance had won over the cerherus of the Home office, and got permission to visit the Prince Napoleon, of whom he gives a hi~hly wrought sketch. This work is well written. What wonderful facility the French have for writing. It seems to come by nature, so limpid flow their sentences; so sparkling is their fancy; so copious their remark. In expression no writers excel them, so pointed, pithy and pretty. In logical arrangement they are not surpassed by Aristotle or Bacon; hut in knowledge can- dor forces me to declare, they are often quite inferior. The French write chiefly to amuse, rarely to instruct. Even Montesquieu oftener thought of glitter than truth, and he woul& not hesitate to confuse a students ideas of government, rather than sacrifice the dramatic struc- ture of a sentence. Yes, French writers have too much esprit, as they call intellect; they are always running after theories, soaring on wings of speculation, or seating themselves complacently on a high mountain of hypothesis, nearly out of sight. To plod along on the plain, hard dry road of fact and common sense, they wont do it. The readers must go ballooning with them, whether or riot; so spurning the earth, you find them like Mahomets coffin, always suspended in the air, where dangling, let us leave them. I could explain this phenorhenon which is connected with the history of their civilization, but that would be far on prosy just now. 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 123 My author of the Ghateaa~ of 11am mingles more matter-of-fact than usual with his rhetoric, and his book is very artistically constructed, like all French books. In a glowing preface he tells us all about himself, as an author should; and it appears that his bosom is stuffed full of dis- gust of what he calls the organized disorder in France, and I dont wonder. He has tried his hand at all parties, and hear what he says of them. Oh, the sterile instability of some; the sepulchral immobility of others; the envious mediocrity of these; the exclusive ambition of those; the collective helplessness of all. This is rather fine, French, and vague, but after writing in the same strain for some lines longer, he states, that all these things, all these parties, and all these men, have made a Free-thinker of him who writes these pages. And thus cured of all illusion above all anger, and free from pledges, he quit Paris, which is next to quittin~t the world, and came down to Ham to see what prospects France had of future happiness, should the luckless prisoner there ever be transferred from a dungeon to a throne. The greater part of the book itself is taken up with the history of Ham and its celebrated fortress. The origin of the town, he says, is lost in the shades of tradition, but of that bye-and-bye. He relates a number of curious and thrilling stories of the old citadel, which was re-constructed in the 15th century, and passing by sack and storm, from the possession of one feudal lord to another, has expe- rienced all the rough vicissitudes which checquer the history of the mid- dle ages. What varying scenes of horror must have been witnessed therewhat furious onslaught in the moats aroundwhat scaling of walls what death-struggling on the battlements-what carnage mingling with shouts, and the trumpets blast; And then the calm which followed victorious possessionthe short-lived peace consumed in feasts and in- triguesthe tournament by daythe wassail by night, till the silence of midnight reposed on those grim ramparts, broken only by the slow tramp of the sentinel, the warders challenge, or the groan of some sinking wretch in the dungeons beneath! It makes one shiver to read of the cruelties of which that grey old castle of Ham has been the bloody the atie. There are horrors enough in my authors book to eke out a dozen melo-dramas and six first-rate novels, to suit the love-and-murder taste of the day. It was here, among other strange incidents related by the Free-thinker, that the last heir of Charlemagne was imprisoned and died; and now the heir of the modern Charlemagne is sent here to linger in the hope of his dying. At last, having finished with the town and the castle, my chronicler ar- rives at his main topic, Prince Louis, of whom he discourses in this fash- ion: It was the rare good fortune of the writer to find himself face to face with the nephew of Napoleon for several hours, which that Prince nobly occupied with one of those frank and intelligent conversations which the mind and heart never forgets. The author entered the Chateau of Ham indifferent, reserved, and shall he say it, full of distrust; but resigned, if necessary, to return with the same indifference, and a disappointment the more like a logician, who, accustomed to failures, still goes on searching the solution of his problem, when he has only as yet the premises to sup- port him. But when he heard the Prince raise and assimilate himself by the elevation, liberality, and patriotism of his ideas, to the levehof his origin; when he saw that thereseparated by the walls of a prison of state from all that world without, of ambitions, of cupidities, and self-aspirations which~ 124 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, dominating and unrestrained, weakens, wastes, and devours this fine country of France; that there he had before him a noble young man ~ ho loved better to pine away slowly each day of his captive life under his native sky, than joyfully to pass his days, feted and gay, on a foreign soil, amid all the delights that youth, fortnne, and a great name could bestow. When he felt But it is not worth while to venture quoting some pages more of the authors sensations, which go on crescendo, swelling and dilating till they reach a climax of alarming intensity, when he seeks relief in the following declaration: Oh, then, the author of this book came out of the Chateau of Ham, his heart as full as his mind; staggering under the weight of his emotions and thoughts, like a man who had just beheld a great soul, aux prises, struggling with a lofty reason. What he exactly means by this I cannot precisely make out; perhaps my reader can. After a deal more caracoling of the same sort, he biings up at last on a grandiloquent piece of writing, where the chief incidents of Prince Louis life are set forth with a pomp not likely to please the taste of a good critic in biography. Grandson of an Empress ! son of a king! nephew of the Emperor! (and he might have added, cousin-german of the imperial families of Austria, Russia, and Brazil, and of the royal ones of Sweden, Wirtemburg, & c.!) Born amid the sound of the cannon of Wagram, and at the very height of the marvels of the Imperial epoch, and under the regards of the eagle whose wings touched the Pyrenees and the Danube! Inscribed on the great book of state deposited in the Senate house de- ciding the order of succession to the throne Banished in perpetuity, he and his, from the country which gave them rank in exchange of glory! Receiving in exile an education at once manly and useful, as ig like a child of the people, he expected his fortune only from his personal labors Devoted to the study of the arts and sci~nces, as if he were condemned to require of them the eternal oblivion of his fallen grandeur and the charms of a life opulent but tranquil ! Formed, however, early to the life of a camp, whence the chief of his race came forth an Emperor, as though it was in the camp only he could expect to find the new consecration of his family and name! Soldier of the popular cause in Italy, where one of his uncles gave away thrones and principalities; where another wore a crown; where still another reigned as Vice~Roy! Disdaining to reign over a country which was not that of his birth ;* yet wandering over it proscribed at the moment when, in 1830, it rose to deliver itself; but who was not included in the new chart of freedom, though he begged, as a favor supreme, an asylum for which he would sacrifice his blood and his gold! Throwing himself twice resolutely into bold enterprises, when, after the danger was past, the terrors reassured of somethe faded hopes of others ,soucr in slander; and that when it is known as re- gards the first (Strasburgh) it failed only through that chance which discon- certs the calculations of the most provident genius, and which is called linattendu. Representative of the vote of four millions, and judged as if that vote had never been given! Condemned to a perpetual prison, as if the shameful treaties of 1815 could be maintained in perpetuity! *This refers to the refusal of Prince Louis of the hand of Donna Maria, Queen of PortugaL 1848~] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 12~ Enfin, cradled in his infancy between two thrones; his youth given up to the lessons and trials of exile; prisoner at 34 years in his own country, which, alas, he will lose, the day he ceases to be so! the Prince Napoleon Louis reunites himself, at this hour, all the grandeurs and re- verses it has p leased the good and bad fortune of France to accumulate, in less than half a century, on that grand Imperial dynasty which Napo.. leon founded; which the sovereignty of the people enthroned; that the Holy Alliance proscribed; and of which the rock of St. Helena devoured the trunk, the court of Vienna the branch, and of which the prison of Ham promises to consume what is left ! Now a less ambitious penman would have given in plainer language much clearer infor- mation, by simply stating the naked facts of the case, which with the utmost brevity I will subjoin. Prince Louis was horn in 1808, (a whole year before the sound ot the cannon of Wagram,) and is the second son of Louis Bonaparte, King of Holland, and of Hortense dBeauharnais, the daughter of the Empress Josephine. In 1815, when the Imperial family was expatriated, Hortense fled with her two sons to Switzerland. here Prince Louis received a military education from General Dufour, and remained in quiet till 1830, when, with his el- der brother, he joined the democratic cause in Italy. After taking part in several engagements, his brother suddenly fell ill, and died, and he was prostrated by the same mysterious sickness.* On his recovery he re- turned to Paris, and applying to enter the French army, was refused, and summoned to quit the kingdom. He retired again to Switzerland; pub- lished several books, military and political; made the attempt at Stras- burgh which sent him to America. arid again the attempt at Boulogne, which consigned him to Hamthe very place which 1 am now ap- proaching with every change of horses. Baptiste, meanwhile, is doing wonders, and displays all the dexterity of an old courier, it is riot by paying a franc or two above their pay merely that you inspire the whip arm of the French postillion, much less do you get speed out of him by remonstrance or complaint. But maintaituing a friendly interest in the newness of his togger~, or like a scurvy politician, as Lear says, seeming not to see the holes in their patched culottes; praising their nags; perhaps with great deli- cacy venturing a doubt of their ability to go; asking after his sweet- heart, and expressing your entire confidence in no rival keeping pace with him either on the road or in the favor of his bien-aime~.These are the ways and means to reach the heart of a French postilhion; and it was amusing to see with what adroitness Baptiste threw his lasso, and how cunningly he managed them, giving them words for sous, which, disin- terested souls, they like as well. No such currency would pass down- east. Darkness came on as we sped along the high-road, and I closed the book of the Free-Thinker, nothing loth. I did not like his inflated style, his bombastic phrases, his never-ending terraces of climax which carried you up, up, till you lost your wind, and all recollection of the place you started from. It is all very well to make the most of your hero; to array his virtues in admiring order; to thiow a graceful veil over his faultsof course, if he has any; this is conciliating and allowed. But to Boswell your Johnson to death; to insist on his uniting every ex- cellence and accomplishment; that he is the just one made perfect; that * It is believed to this day in Itaty that his brother and himsetf were poisoned by hired assas- sins, and there are many detaits to justify the belief. Their joint removat woutd have been a great relief to many ol those who tike Macbeth eat their bread in fear. 126 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, he is a great man in esse, and a great angel inposse,why this is to over- shoot the mark, and knock your idol down. Prince Louis must have a deal of vitality of some sort to survive all the ridiculous things written about him, (this amongst the rest,) as ~vell as some unaccountable things he has done. In this way I mused a long while with my cloak gathered about mefor it was a crisp evening in autumn and my cap pulled down over my brows to the charming accompaniment of the rapid pattering of the horses hoofs on the hard road, and the steady roll of the carriage-wheels. I was in a queer state of betweenity, as Willis would say, with my head in the land of Nod, and my feet rather cold under the opposite seat, when the door opened with a jerk, and Aa-riv4 Mionsieur, was almost shouted in my ear by the contented Baptiste. III, I was cordially welcomed to 11am by a tall, fine-lookink man, with a bright face and pleasant smile, the landlord of the only hostelry in this very old, but very small town. He escorted me up one pair of stairs to a neat salon with a bedroom attached, everything wearing a neat and tidy appear- ance, that gave me a good opinion of the dame du nienage. No carpets on the floor of tile, whicl~ are not to be looked for out of Paris, and there they are used more for ornament th~n comfort. A piece no larger than probably answered Aladdin for journeying through the air is usually para- ded before your bed, and sometimes a rug is decoratively disposed before the fire-place, which looks dreadfully lonesome without a carpet for com- pany. It is a long while before an American recovers from his sense of discomfort in living in a room with a bare floor; but he does at last, and that is the advantage of travelling, which shakes off those local ideas which identifies enjoyment with numberless superfluities that really have on other value than custom gives them. Having made survey of my apart- ment amid the profuse recommendations of my host, ~ essayed to cut off his loquacious tattle, by saying it would do. But this only changed the subject, for after asking and answering his own questions about my journey down, he added, Ah, Monsieur, how I envy you the privilege of seeing the Prince Louis! I looked up in surprise. ~ Why, is it so com- mon a thing for travellers, I inquired, to visit the citadel that you infer I came here for that purpose ? Oh, mon dien, no; but everybody in 11am knew this morning that Monsieur was coming to see the Prince. This was a poser, for I only knew it myself the evening before; and how the intelligence could have been anticipated some 12 hours after all my hurry along the roadthat was just what, after cudgelling my brains for some minutes, I could in no wise make out. Pray, allow me to ask how everybody got this information, I said, considerably perp1exed. Certainement, replied Boniface, delighted to oblige me, the police was telegraphed last night, and instructions sent down with full particu- lars of Mionsieurs intended visit. Indeed, I responded, by no means overjoyed at this pertinacity of the police-office. It is really very good-natured in the minister to take 80 much pains about me. He evidently attaches more importance to my business here than I do myself. I spoke in a t)ne keenly ironical, and my host was not slow to perceive my displeasure. He seemed astonished thereat, and opined, that, Monsieur, was not Fran~ais. No, thank Heaven ! I exclaimed, giving vent to my feelings. That 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 127 is to say, I thank my stars that I live in a country where respectable peo- ple are not treated like rogues, and where telegraphs are put to a better use than reporting the transits of quiet travellers. From the dubious ex- pression of the landlords face it was pretty alear that he had his misgiv- ings whether there really was such a country as that in the world; (it is nowhere in Europe, and but few there imagine there is a world beyond it,) and he was inclined to think I was trying to be facetious. I put an end to his mental conjectures, however, by ordering supper. The best you have, and plenty of it ; for my vexation and long abstinence had whetted my appetite. It is supremely ridiculous, cert~ inly, thonght I, this dodging a man about from Paris to Ham ; I ~vonder my baggage is not inspected to see if it contain a rope-ladder, or any other suspicious material. How- ever, theres no use of losing ones temper at absurdities that after all are amusing; so humming a tune, 1 looked out of the window to make out if I could from prima facie evidence, what sort of a place Ham was. All I could descry through the darkness was a great square before the hotel whose confines were lost in the obscurity of the night. My supper was brought in, and I turned round with a relish. I am no gourmand, but con- fess to a vigorous appetite and a fastidious palate; and if there is anything in the whole list of edibles that would beget a craving under the ribs of death, it is, remember it reader, a French capon, delicately overlaid with a thin morceau dejamnbon, and daintily embroidered with persil. I never think of it but a feeling is roused within of deep desire, somewhat analog- ous in force, only different in kind, to that which stirredVirginius when long- ing to get hold ofAppius, whom his vengeance wished to banquet on. Set him before me, oh ye Gods ! My savory repast was farther seasoned with the livelychat ofthegareon. What a cheerful gossiping set these French gar~ cons are, with their long white aprons and napkins tucked under the arm, How different from that demure and servile race of English waiters, whose affected obsequiousness you cant help suspecting is meking faces at you on the reverse side. Tout passe, as the proverb has it, and though in no hurry my supper was 500fl fiuiished, and I rose from the ta- ble like a giant refreshed. But I was in no humor for going to bed, and as wine delights me riot, nor segars either, I was a little put to it for amusement. A thought struck me; Ill have a talk. I felt expansive, and communicative; but wheres the victim? Baptiste ; just the fellow ; hes paid for hearing my humors. Besides no small curiosity possessed me to know more of this droll creature. For though in my European ex perience I had met with many of his tribe, he struck me in many respects as a later edition, as it were, of all the rest. The moral physiologists of England, Dickens, Smith, Thackeray, have in their ingenious and learned investigations of the English animal, through all its grades of social development elaborately described under the genus woman, a particular species nomenclated Maid of all work. Now, the class to which Baptiste belongs is the French male to the English female here alluded to, and may be with sufficient clearness described the Man of all work. No sooner does a traveller rise from his breakfast the first day of his arrival in Paris. than a well-dressed man with that unmistakable air which may be expressed in the phrase of having seen a thing or two, presents himself. Does Monsieur want to tiavel? why, he has been everywhere, knows every road and every trick on it. Does Monsieur only want a guide about Paris? lie will promise to skim the cream of all the sights in six days, without fatiguing you. Rut, if you are an habitn6 of Paris, then he merely hands you a few letters from his late masters, a Russian Boyard, or an Italian Prince, to prove that he is Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte~ [August, accustomed to good society, and stands ready to have his resources put to the test. Baptiste was all this, and something more. He had the traits of his class in his physiognomy; the lines about the mouth indicated an aptitude without limits, and in the dry leer of his eye might be traced a boundless aversion to anything like ~regular, or serious labor of any sort. There was something fidgety in his manner; a restless anxiety to know every- bodys husiness, and an eternal activity of disposition that satisfied me there was never a f6t6, fight or frolic in Paris, where he was not recog- nised as a leader, and followed with enthusiasm. There was only one subject he had never touched upon, and I suspected it lay nearest his heart. Just at this moment he knocked, and came to know if I had any further orders for the night. Sit down there for a few minutes, Baptiste, I said, pointing to a chair near the window. Volontiers, Monsieur, and he seated himself at once, as though accus- tome(l to such marks of condescension. It has just occurred to me, Baptiste, I observed, that I have never heard a political sentiment escape you. Now, I think, that the destinies of France have a good deal more to do with the opinions of your set, than those of your masters, for while not one in ten of these I find have a conviction, you fellows go out in the streets and fight for yours. Let me have your idea of M. Guizot. Pardon, Monsieur, said Baptiste, after a moments silence, which he employed staring at me with a very comical expression of wonder. Dont pardon me, Baptiste, I continued, but speak outyour cau- tion would be more reasonable if you were as tenderly looked after by the police as I am. That is just what I dread, he answered with a start. I have suf- fered so much already; twice in prison, and Whats that you say l 1 demanded, changing color; in prison, and for what crime No great crime, Monsieur, in my view, he replied in a tone of pallia- tion. You see, I fought through the three days of 1830, and Just what I suspected, I remarked. Yes, Monsieur, continued Baptiste, his eyes brightening, and it was rare sport. I was the first man in the Tuilleries, where I slept all night on the throne of the Bourbons. That was satisfaction enough, and I was paid for my wounds. Well, was that all you barricaded for l Oh, mon Dieu, non Monsieur, I wanted to get rid of Charles X. and his priests, and then Get Louis Philippe and his politicians in their places, eh, I said, smiling. Sacrebleue, exclaimed Baptiste, carried away by his feelings; it is enough to make a poor man swear to see how we are treated. When we suffer in peace, these journalists inflame our hearts, and promise us re- lief if we only come out and be killed for them. And then, Nom de Dieu, he broke out again, one set takes the other sets places and they turn round and break our heads for reminding them of their promises. That will teach you better next time, Baptiste, was my brief com- mentary; but how did you get in prison l Why, you see, Monsieur, he answered, grinding hi~ teeth, when I and the rest of us discovered how the game was going; that not a single law was altered for the betterthat not a single tax was loweredthat 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 129 our wine, tobacco and salt were to be no cheaper and that our money was spent more extravagantly on a governm eat of clerks (commis) than it was even by the priests. Why, then, Monsieur, we thought we~J try it again. But, par Di~u, how they cut us up. I was siezed and treated like a dog, and when I got our, I took the first chance that offered and was served in the same way again, and if it not had been for my old master General , I should have been in the galleys by this time. Very well, I said, I hope you are wiser for your experience and have learnt that there is no use contending with the politicians. If they tell you the people are only horn to be taxed atid cheated, you shoold do your best to believe it, for you see they cant be convinced to tbe contrary, with all your fighting. Why, is that the way the people do in your country? inquired Baptiste, as if he only wanted that to be satLfied of the son tidness of my advice. Oh, in my country, Baptiste, the people are a very sharp set of fel- lows, and they understand their interests too clearly to be hoodwinked by politicians; though. even there, some are fools enough to try it, but their fate serves as a warning to the rest. What a happy country that must beof yours, Monsieur. We feel by our suffering that all is wrong here, but every newsl)aper arid orator has a different remedy. We dont know which to believe, thotigh we are dreadfully put to it. Oh, Monsieur, you little dream amid the plenty of Paris what starving there is in the country, and were 1 to relate tne con- dition of my own family it would move your pity, for I see, mon maitre, you take an interest in us poor devils ! \Vell, Ill not deny that, Baptiste; and if I were not an American I should like to be a Frenchman, for there is plenty of work in France to keep a man busy who is fond of an active life. But it is desperate work for you people, without a leader, arid the police blocking up every road around you. But we dont mean to give it up whilst theres life in us, said Ba p - tiste, an a tone not to be mistaken; and he added, shaking his finger at some unseen object out of the window, those gates will be Opened some day, and I mean to be present at the ceremony. What gates ? I asked, rather mystified. - Of the citadel of Ham ! he said, with strong emphasis. What! retorted I, astonished, are you a Bonapartiste? To the death ! was the grim reply. Well, if 1 had entertained the smallest suspicion of that, answered I, not a little annoyed, 1 should not have brought you here, you may de- pend on it. That is just what I feared, Monsieur, so I said nothing about it? You are a shrewd fellow, Baptiste; but what is this? You talked just now like a republican, arid you turn out a Bonapartiste. One would have thought you had got a surfeit of kings and emperors by this time. We have had enough of Bourbons, Monsieur, but wed like to try another Bonaparte, if only out of reverence for the Emperor, whose wor- ship is onir only religion in France. Come, Baptiste, dont get profane. Non, Monsieur. We are not fools enough to believe there is another like him, for the mould is broken he was cast in; but I dont know how it is, the people will fancy that a Bonaparte must be true to them. And so if you had your choice to-morrow, you would take the empire instead of the republic, eb ? VOL.. XXIH.No. CXXtI. 3 130 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August, Well, to l)e frank with you, Monsieur, I dont see any difference. Napoleon was called a consul during the republic, and an emperor after- wards, but that was the only change, as they say in our club * And now we have got a citizen-king, but wh~ t alteration has that brought, asl was just saying. Thats very good logic, Baptiste, and I must do you men of the peo- pie the justice ti aay, that I never converse with you without being struck with your good common sense. If your government an] politicians had the most remote iulca of it, I think they would hardly venture to bamboozle you so impudently. Ah, that they will find out one day to their cost, answered Baptiste, with a sigtuificant nod of his head. Well, you may go to-bed now, and wake me up at seven in the inornino. It may be supposed that it was far from a pleasant discovery to find that I had a hot-headed Bonapartiste in my train. This was quite enough to subject me to the suspicions of the police, and let theta alone for knowing it. And it was pretty clear besides, that Baptiste was hourly, I could see it, boiling up to an explosive point of enthusiasm, and theres no trust- ing these fiery and impulsive French. There is not a nobler people in the world, but they go off constantly half-cocked. If Baptiste should break out even in his sleep with a cry of Vice iErnpereur ! ten to one we should both be arrested and packed off to Paris under an escort of gens darmes. I must keep a sharp eye on him was my latent reflection on getting into bed. Bless me what a qtiet place this 11am is, struck me next. I missed the murmur and hum of the capitol. It would give tne the blues to stay here a week; and then, I thought of the dreary five years poor Prince Louis had lingered throttgh in that gloomy old fortress hard by. Thus thinking and sympathising I fell asleep. Iv. I was up betimes next morning and took a saunter through the town that invited ni) particular remark, save that a place which had been 5t) many hundred years growing should have made so little progress. A village in Ohio ~vould run round it before they had finished build itig one of their little two-story stone houses I was going to say; but theti it should he borne itt mind that what with governments, ecclesiastical, feudal, monarchical and what rtot, poor 11am has been burnt up and pulled down more times than I have space to tell. There is but one street in the place, and that so long and crooked that in following it without thought I got completely wound up, and began to despair of unravelling the mystety, when a tnarket.cart hove in sight, and following in its wake I got safe home agatn. Immediately after breakfast I sent Baptiste off with my card to the commandant of the ettadel, with my compliments, to know at what hotir I should present my- self for adruission. Meanwhile the latidlord came in with the startling itt telligence that there were a couple of gens darmes at the door wamtmtmg to escort me to the Police Office. Why, whats in the wind now, I asked, beginning to get a little nervous. Rien, Monsieur, it is only a formality. They wish to see you in per- son to verify the description they have received. *Ir will be hereafter seen that tThpiste was an active member of a secret society which are as thoroughly ramified over Pdris as the gas-pipes, and like them are mostly co - cealed under ground. 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 131 Well, confound their impudence, why cant they come here, then, ~f thats all they want ? The landlord was a good deil amused at my want of reverence for the police, and intimated that in France the grea:est deference was paid to their minotest wishes, whatever might be the private inclinations of the parties complying. I expressed my resolute determination not to go near them, at which the landlord smiled in a ~vay to convince me that I would change my mi d. To turn the subject I spoke of Prince Louis, and found the topic highly congenial to mine host. He was copious and eloquent in his praises, and said how impossible it was to express the interest the whole town took in the welf~ire of the unfortunate prisoner. He related numberless acts of his kindness of heart, and said that he was in the habit of expending the greater part of his revenue on the poor of the place, who had ncver, since his cap- tivity, stood a moment in need of clothing or food during the rigors of a Norman winter. Here BapListe shot in the room quite out of breath, and very pale Je lai vii! I have see him, was his only exclamation. Well, what did he say ? 1 asked. Oh, I didnt speak to him, he replied, with his eyes flashing, but I saw him on the ramparts ~valking with his hands behind him, just like the Emperor. What, the commandant ? N:), the Prince, Monsieur. Why, have you lost your senses ? I demanded, I sent you to inquire when I could be a(lmitted to the citadel. Pardon mon maitre, I quite forgot to mention it; your card and message were carried in, for I was not allo~~ed to crcss the drawbridge. The com- mandant returns his compliments, and says he will be happy to see you at one oclock. No expostulations I found would answer, but go to the police office I must. 1 succeeded, however, in compromising the matter by sending off those hang-dog gens dar,nes, and going there tinder the convoy of my landlord. After a due inspection of my nose and eyebrows, & c., my letter from the minister was looked at as I had no pass-port, and then I was asked when I should leave Ham on my return to Paris. In three or four days, I suppose, but that depends on circumstances. It was just as I pleased, they replied, but I must do them the favor of an- other call before going, to state my intention, and get a return pass-port. Thence I made my way for the citadel, and had nearly got there before I espied Baptiste close in my rear. What are you about, Baptiste ? I said rather roughly; you must go back. The poor fellow seemed horrified at his sentence, and his countenance filled with emotion. lie showed strong symptoms of falling on his knees, and began to implore me to let him follow. Oh! he entreated, only let me see the Prince, but for a minute only. How absurdly you talk, Baptiste, what privilege have I in the matter. And suppose you are allowed to pass the guard, how do I know it will be agreeable to the Prince in taking such a liberty. All my rernonstrances were drowned in a flooding tide of prayers and supplications, so I gave up the point and told him he might tak~ his chance. I had still a few minutes to spare which I spent walking about, surveying the Fortress that covers several acres of ground, and is of vast extent. it 132 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [August~ is quadrangular in shape, and protected at either corner by a round tower of great height and solidity. Its walls too were lofty, and of unusual mas- siveness, with butresses of great width and st.rength; a double ditch con- nected by drawbridges at the main entrance completely encircled it, and so cut off all possibility of its capture by surprize. It is a magnificent relic of the feudal age, and 1 was still curiously gazing at it with reflections on its eventful history, when the clock of the citadel struck one, and I strode off hurriedly towards the main portal. The drawbridge was down, and the portcullis up, as if a visitor were expected, and passing onwards, I encoun- tered successively several corps de garde, and numerous sentries who let me go by unchallenged, having, doubtless, received orders to that effect. Baptiste stuck to me like my shadow, though he got a sharp look from the Goncierge, as emerging from a gloomy arch-way we passed his lodge, and struck across a wide court, filled with soldiers off duty, on my way to the quarters of the commandant. An officer accompanying me soon stopped at a small, but neat two story building, of which there were several I ob- served scattered about the interior of the Fortress. Knocking at a low door we were ushered into a tidy room on the lower floor, when a minute afterwards the commandant, M. Demarle, a fine-looking, soldierly man of some 60 years of age entered. He received me with great courtesy, and stating my business, I presented him my letter of authority from the minister, Al. Duckaal. He glanced over it, and bowing, said it was all correct. Pray allow me to inquire, I said, if any further ceremony is re- quisite in my future visits to the Fortress? as my letter omits to give any such particulars. I am sorry to inform you, replied M. Demarle, that I have received orders to admit you but once, and that your interview with the Prince must be limited to four hours. I shall be under the necessity, then, of summon- ing you to leave the citadel at five oclock. What! is it possible? I exclaimed, not more astonished than annoyed; only one visit, and that of four hours ! Such are my instructions, answered the commandant, with military brevity. But who is this person with you ? casting his eyes on Baptiste, who quivered under his stern gaze. It is a favorite servant who begs your permission to Impossible, said the commandant, who anticipated my request, he must retire instantly. Do you hear, I said to Baptiste, who seemed disposed to turn into marble, he looked so white and petrified, sauvez vous. Bowing to M. Demarle, I followed the officer appointed to escort me to the apartments of the Prince. I soon reached the low, narrow entrance of a gloomy and aged-looking building situated near one of the tnain walls, where I found a couple of sentinels posted. I ascended t~vo flights of nar- row stone stairs which were half.crumbled away, and turning to the left down a dark corridor, I came to the door of the Prince, which was opened by his valet standing on the outside. I found Prince Louis seated at a table covered with books and papers in a small room, dimly lighted by two apertures fr(m above, secured by stout iron bars. As I advanced, he rose, extending his hand and said, with a friendly smile, It is really very kind of you to come so far out of your way to see me in this dull place. I should have gone much further, believe me, Monseigneur, I replied, for the pleasure of meeting you once more. The Prince bowed, and playfully expressed his regrets at not having it in his power to recetve me 1848.] The Incognita of Raphael. 133 more in accordance with his wishes, but at all events, I am consoled, he added, in the belief that those who venture within these cheerless pre- cincts come not from motives of ceremony, but from an honest sympathy rather in my welfare. I contemplated the Prince while he spoke, with much interest, and was pained to see that he was sadly altered since I saw him last. He had grown much thinner; was very pale and sickly-looking; and his manner how different from the gay, martial air he wore in London. Though ever sim- ple and affable, his appearance betokened deep dejection, and a spirit bruis- ed and sinking under constant reverses. * We must reserve from want of space, for our next number, the long and remarkable conversation which here ensuedED. TIlE INCOGNITA OF RAPIIAEL- (The portrait to which the following verses refer is in the Fitti Palace at Florence. It is ease of the ;ems of that incomparahie collection.I LONG has the summer sunlight shone On the fair form, the quaint costume; Yet nameless still, she sits, unknown, A lady in her youthful bloom. Fairer for this! no shadows cast Their blight upon her perfect lot; Whateer her future, or her past, In this bright moment matters not. No record of her high descent There needs, nor memory of her name, Enough that Raphael~s colors blent To give her features deathless fame! Twas his anointing hand that set The crown of beauty on her brow; Still lives its early radiance yet, As at the earliest, even now. Tis not the ecstacy that glows in all the ral)t Cecilias grace; Nor yet the holy, calm repose, He painted on the Virgins face. Less of the heavens, and more ?~ earth, There lurk within these earnest eyes, The passions that have had their birth, And grown beneath italian skies. What mortal thoughts, and cares, and dreams, \Vhat hopes. and fears, and longings rest, Where falls Ihe folded veil, or gleassis The golden necklace on her breast. What mockery of the painted glow May shade th~ secret soul within; What griefs from paSsions overflow, What shame that fellows after sin!

1848.] The Incognita of Raphael. 133 more in accordance with his wishes, but at all events, I am consoled, he added, in the belief that those who venture within these cheerless pre- cincts come not from motives of ceremony, but from an honest sympathy rather in my welfare. I contemplated the Prince while he spoke, with much interest, and was pained to see that he was sadly altered since I saw him last. He had grown much thinner; was very pale and sickly-looking; and his manner how different from the gay, martial air he wore in London. Though ever sim- ple and affable, his appearance betokened deep dejection, and a spirit bruis- ed and sinking under constant reverses. * We must reserve from want of space, for our next number, the long and remarkable conversation which here ensuedED. TIlE INCOGNITA OF RAPIIAEL- (The portrait to which the following verses refer is in the Fitti Palace at Florence. It is ease of the ;ems of that incomparahie collection.I LONG has the summer sunlight shone On the fair form, the quaint costume; Yet nameless still, she sits, unknown, A lady in her youthful bloom. Fairer for this! no shadows cast Their blight upon her perfect lot; Whateer her future, or her past, In this bright moment matters not. No record of her high descent There needs, nor memory of her name, Enough that Raphael~s colors blent To give her features deathless fame! Twas his anointing hand that set The crown of beauty on her brow; Still lives its early radiance yet, As at the earliest, even now. Tis not the ecstacy that glows in all the ral)t Cecilias grace; Nor yet the holy, calm repose, He painted on the Virgins face. Less of the heavens, and more ?~ earth, There lurk within these earnest eyes, The passions that have had their birth, And grown beneath italian skies. What mortal thoughts, and cares, and dreams, \Vhat hopes. and fears, and longings rest, Where falls Ihe folded veil, or gleassis The golden necklace on her breast. What mockery of the painted glow May shade th~ secret soul within; What griefs from paSsions overflow, What shame that fellows after sin! 134 Legerdemain of Laweraft. [August, Yet calm as heavens serenest deeps, Are those puie eyes, those glances pure And queenly is the state she keeps, In beautys lofty trust secure. And who has strayed, by happy chance, Through all those grand and pictured halls Nor felt the magic ot her glance, As when a voice of music calls? Not soon shall I forget the day Sweet day, in springs unclouded time, While on the glowir~ canvass lay The light of that delicious clime, I marked the matchless colors wreathed On the fur brow, the peerless cheek, The lips. I ihncied, almost hreatlied The blessings that they could not speak. Fair were the eyes with mine that bent Upon the picture their iuiild gaze, And dear the voice that gave consent To all the utterance of my praise. 0, fit companionship of thonght; 0, happy memories. shiined apart; The rapture that the painter wrought, The kindred rapture of the heart! I~Ef~ER1JE1~IAIN OF IJAWC RAFT. (coNT[zuEn.) IN resuming ourrandom strictures upon legal misdemeanors and absurdi- ties, we propose to nortce some of the peculiarities of pleading, in connec- tion with brifsthose legal docu ment ary papers, usually more remarkable for their unmerciful expansion an(l verhosity than anything else. In early times, pleading was carried en without the aid of briefs; if, in no other particuLir, therefore, this branch of the profession still retains its i(lentity, it may at least boast of it, in tile matter of briefless barristers. The greatest talker, consequently, stood the best chance of i)earing off the palm, and of becoming the pride of his profession. Law, under those circumstances, might be better spelt with a J:for it began, continued, and etided with that great essential. It is a wonder none of the privileged sex everdared the ambitious science, whose province is that of defining the (lifference between neum and tuum,hetween tweedledum and tweeri1e~i cc. The business would doubtless have beeti effected in double qui~k time, for female advocacy, if pursued in true orthodox style, is usually a summary process, involving a tornado of feeling and pathos. Our modern bartisters, however, are riot altogether divested of such attri- butes themselves, and they abumndantly compensate for whatever deficiency they may (liscover in this respect, by their liberal use of I)ersonIal invective and abuse. In fact no case cavin be opened or made clear to the ap- preherinsion ofa jury, without their first attempting to disparage the charac- ter of tile unfortunate antagonist, by so ungentonsly distorting the fact.~, that they at length becomefictien. Yet, perhaps, it is scarcely fair to look

134 Legerdemain of Laweraft. [August, Yet calm as heavens serenest deeps, Are those puie eyes, those glances pure And queenly is the state she keeps, In beautys lofty trust secure. And who has strayed, by happy chance, Through all those grand and pictured halls Nor felt the magic ot her glance, As when a voice of music calls? Not soon shall I forget the day Sweet day, in springs unclouded time, While on the glowir~ canvass lay The light of that delicious clime, I marked the matchless colors wreathed On the fur brow, the peerless cheek, The lips. I ihncied, almost hreatlied The blessings that they could not speak. Fair were the eyes with mine that bent Upon the picture their iuiild gaze, And dear the voice that gave consent To all the utterance of my praise. 0, fit companionship of thonght; 0, happy memories. shiined apart; The rapture that the painter wrought, The kindred rapture of the heart! I~Ef~ER1JE1~IAIN OF IJAWC RAFT. (coNT[zuEn.) IN resuming ourrandom strictures upon legal misdemeanors and absurdi- ties, we propose to nortce some of the peculiarities of pleading, in connec- tion with brifsthose legal docu ment ary papers, usually more remarkable for their unmerciful expansion an(l verhosity than anything else. In early times, pleading was carried en without the aid of briefs; if, in no other particuLir, therefore, this branch of the profession still retains its i(lentity, it may at least boast of it, in tile matter of briefless barristers. The greatest talker, consequently, stood the best chance of i)earing off the palm, and of becoming the pride of his profession. Law, under those circumstances, might be better spelt with a J:for it began, continued, and etided with that great essential. It is a wonder none of the privileged sex everdared the ambitious science, whose province is that of defining the (lifference between neum and tuum,hetween tweedledum and tweeri1e~i cc. The business would doubtless have beeti effected in double qui~k time, for female advocacy, if pursued in true orthodox style, is usually a summary process, involving a tornado of feeling and pathos. Our modern bartisters, however, are riot altogether divested of such attri- butes themselves, and they abumndantly compensate for whatever deficiency they may (liscover in this respect, by their liberal use of I)ersonIal invective and abuse. In fact no case cavin be opened or made clear to the ap- preherinsion ofa jury, without their first attempting to disparage the charac- ter of tile unfortunate antagonist, by so ungentonsly distorting the fact.~, that they at length becomefictien. Yet, perhaps, it is scarcely fair to look 1848.1 Lgcrdemain Qf Laweraft. 135 for a different condition of things in a profession where the necessities of the case seem to preclude almost the possibiity of a change. Expart6 statements may, and too often do, so essentially violate truth atid honesty, that it is to he regretted the leartied members of the bar of the 19th century are found still so strenuously to insist upon its adaption in legal process. Any one, uninitiated, hearing for the first time the opening up of a case, the examination of a witness, or the summing up of a cause, would, doubtless, be inclined to concln(le that lawyers were profes- sionally as great strangers to rercl(i/q, as the simple Hibernian was to the he ever, had any money deposited public stocks who,lbn heino asked if there, admitted he ir~ver had, but confessed to having had his le~s there often enouTh. We subjoin one specimen of a brftf,not of the briefest kind it is true, being long enough and large enough to suit the most garrulous 0f the profession. It is taken from Butlrrs Remini~ccnces The length of legal instruments is often owing to the necessity of providing for a multiplicity of contingent events, each of which may happen, arid must, there- fore, be bith fully described, arid fully provided for. Of the nature and extent of this multiplicity, the party himself is seldom aware; sometimes even his profes- sional adviser does not feel it. until he begins to frame the necessary clauses. A gentleman. upon whose will the Reminiscent ~vas consulted, had six estates of un- equal value, and wished to settle one on each of his sons, and his male issue, with successive limitations over to the other sons, and their lespective male issue, in the ordinary mode of strict settlement; and with a povision, that in the event of the death and failure of issue male of any of the sons, the estate devised to him, should shift from him and his issue male, to the next taker and his issue male, arid failing there, to the person claiming under the other limitations, it was considered at first, that this might be effected l~y one proviso then by two, rind then by six ; but upon a full investigation, it was Ibund that it required as many provisoes as there can be combinations of the number 6 ;now I x2x3x4x5x6=720; Consequently, to give complete effect to the intention of tire testator, 720 provisoes were necessrrry. By a similar calculation, if a deed, which the Reminiscent was instructed to pre- pare, had beerm executed, the expense of the necessary stamp ~vould bmive mimounted to nirrery millions, seven hunrined timid twenty tironisrind pounrls. Ten l)ersons, each of ~vhomn was possessed of Inindeui l)roperty. Irriving engaged in a mining ad- venture, a rleed of prmrtnership xvrrs to he preptrred, whib was to contrriri a stipula- tiomi that, if miny one or more of the intended linirtuers. should nidvmrnce ninoney to an other, or others of them, the money lent should lie a charge, in the rrrrtore of a mortgage. upon the shame or respective shares of the borrower, or reshrective bor- rowers, and overreach all srnbsequerit chargesrind, therefore, the charges were to be considered as mortgages actually made Iry the deed. Thus, in the contem- ptnitioni of equity, the estrrte wns actunilly to be subjected by the deed to as many possible mortgages as there can be corirbimrations of the number 10. Vacli of these possible mortgages, being for an indefinite sum, would require the ~C25 stamp. 25X2X3X4X5XGX7XSX9XlO=OO,72O,OOO. Sortie years ago, arm unsuccessful catdidate for the horonigh of Berwick- upon-Tweed, preferred a petition to the house of Corn mons, and retairred an emitietit cumurmsel with a fee (if fifty gmnimueas. Just before the bnisiness was about to come hefurre the Hoirses, the barrister, wlro had irm the minter- val charrged his political semititnents, declined to plead. The carrdidate m mediitely waited oni his advocate, mni Idly expostulnte(l and remonstrated, but all in vain ; lie would trot by any oreans either plead or retmirn the morley adding, with a sneer of pm ufessiorral itrsolence, that tire law was opemm, and he miglrt hove recourse to it, if lie felt hiinriself inmjnrrcd. No, no, sir, replied tire spirited chierrt, I was weak enough to give you a fee, 136 Legerdemain of Lawcraft. [August, but I am not quite fool enou2h to go to law with you, as I perceive my whole fortune may be wasted in retaining fees alone, before I find (me honest barrister to plead f~,r me. I have. therefore, brought roy advocate takino in my pocket ! Then, out a brace of pistols, he offered one to the astonished counsellor; and protested that before he quitted the room, he would either have his money or satisfaction. The court-room is not infrequently the scene of much ludicrous sport. An instance of the sort we have selected, and may as well here introduce, as a kind of offset to any preceding remarks which may savour of censure upon counsel. The case, in brief, was as follows: j~ negro woman was arraigned for stealing some live poultry, and a little Dutchman who resided in the vicinity became the purchaser of the same contraband goods foul practices for any, but especially so for a demure Dutchman. He was called to the stand, and the following amusing colloquy ensued: Did you ever purchase any fowls of the prisoner, Mr. H ? Witness. Yoas, me did puy some cheecken fowls of de prisoner. Counsel. XVhat was the color of those fowls, Mr. H ?were they white ! Witness. Yaas, dey wash white, mit a few plack shpecks all over um, an a leetle ret and gray on de wings an de Vick an de preast. counsel. You mean to say then that these fowls were not white 1 Witness, shaking his head Oh, no, no, nome say dey wash white, dat ish leavin out de ret an de gray an de plack. counsel. At what time did you purchase these fowls of the prisoner, Mr. H Witness, after reflecting for a short time It wash just l)efore de shnow fell. counsel. To what snow do you refer, Mr. H ? You know we have had several this winter. Witness. Oh, me means dat what falls de night de pig shschooner go ashore. G~ensel. Do you mean the last snow sir 1 Wrtness. rPo pe shure; dat ish te vary shuow what I wash penn talkin apout all de time. Counsel. Has the prisoner been in the habit of visiting your store often, Mr. H Wetness. Well, yaasdat ish she come somedimes ofden and somedimes of- denei. Gounsd. What do you call often, Mr. H Witness. bat debends vary much pun de slitate of de weather. Counsel. Well, allowing it to he fair 1 Witness. Wy, den me say ofden ish oncesht a day dorm de week and two dimes on Sadurtays. The counsel could proceed no further with the examination, and the little Dutch- man retired from the stand amidst a perfect storm of laughter. We have at our hand another case, and as it is a very striking one to boot, we may as well introduce it with the view of adding force to our ob- servations: A lawyer, retained in a case oC assault and battery, was cross-examining a wit- ness in relation to the force of a blow struck What kind of a blow was given ? A blow of the common kind. Describe the l)low. I am not good at description. Show me what kind of a blo~v it was. I cannot. You must. I wont. The lawyer appealed to the court. 1848.] Legerdemain of Lawcraft. 137 The court told the witness that if the counsel insisted upon his showing what kind of a blow it was, he must do so. ~Do you insist upon it ? asked the witness. I do. Well, then, since you compel me to show you, it was this kind of a hiow ! at the same time suiting the action to the word, and knocking over the astonished dis- ciple of Coke upon Littleton. In this connexion we have yet another case to present, in which the irri- tating and too irritable counsel was completely nonplussed. It is as fol- lows I call upon you, said th~ counsellor, to state distinctly upon what authority you are prepared to swear to the mares age ? Upon what authomitv ? said the ostler, interrogatively. You are to re~)ly to, and not to repeat the questions I)ut to you. I doesnt consider a mans bound to answer a question afore hes time to turn it in his mind. Nothing can be more simple, sir, than the question put. I again repeat it: Upon what authority do you swear to the animals age ? The best authority, responded the witness, gruffly. Then why such evasion? Why not state it at once? Well, then, if you must have it, Must! I will have it, vociferated the counsellor, interrupting the witness. Well, then, if you must and will have it, rejoined the ostler, with imperturba- ble gravity, why, then, I had it myself from the mares own mouth. A simultaneous burst of laughter rang through the court. The judge,. on the bench, could with difficulty restrain his risible muscles to judicial decorum. Our readers may remember the story of the two Irish friends, who, from long practice, arrived at great proficiency in the science of unlawfully ab- stracting their neighbors property, and were not only true to the old maxim of honor among thieves, but they evinced an ingenuity and skill worthy of a better cause. One, having appropriated a goose, was on the point of being condemned by a jury for theft, when the friend appeared and swore that the bird was his, and had beeti ever since it was a gosling, and the pri- soner on this was acquitted. Afterwards, in the course of his calling, the ingenious witness was himself arraigned for stealing a gun. Dont be on- aisey, ~vhispered the former culprit, Ill release ye. Thereupon he stepped into the witness-box, and boldly affirmed that the gun was his, and that it had been in his possession ever since it had been a pistol. An expose of the tender passion often occurs, which the papers recite with heightening effect, so that we are not called upon to say much on that subject; but as we have a sample of that kind which is short and sweet, we place it before the reader. in the Sheriffs Court, London, recently, a Miss Rogers obtained 64 damages against a certain swain bearing the sus- picious name of Bachelor, for breach of promise of marriage. A number of the defendants love letters were produced, in which the fluctuations of his love were very amusingly exhibited. They began with, Yours, J. B. C ; then fired up to My ever dearest Maria ; then softened into My Dar- hug; then cooled into Dear Maria ; then formalized into Dear Miss Rodgers ; and broke off with the following announcement : You wish to know how I intend to settle; all I can say is, that I cannot he more set- tled than I am. Lest the reader should deem us rambling and desultory, we may state that ~ur subject has so many phases to tempt our vagrant fancy, that we must be excused the weakness of indulging a rambling propensity. Lawyers have long ere this, we doubt not, become perfectly callous to criticism, 138 Legerdemain of Laweraft. [August, from the generous doses which have been so frequently administered. If the doctor kills or cures the patient(a significant name by the way,) the lawyer certainly is at least quite as aufait at creating quarrels, and re- conciling them : yet both inflict charges grievous to be borne, upon their victims. Sometimes, however, they become matchedcaught in their own net, as the following incident shows: Did you present your account to the defendant ? inquired a lawyer of his cli- ent. ~ I did, your honor. And what did he say ? Lie told toe to go to the d-l. And what did you do then 1? Why. then, I came to you. It appears that there are no lawyers in the British Colony of Honduras, except an Attorney General, and that none others are permitted to exercise that vocation. An effort is now making to introduce a limited bar ; but there is so much opposition to the measure, that it will hardly succeed. A writer in the Honduras Observer asks: What is now proposed? Why~ to introduce a limited bar,or to fasten upon us a set of hungry lawyers, who by their briefs, their pleas in bar, their pleas in abatement, their declarations, their disclaimers, their deinurrers, and redeinur ters, their legal fictions and their sopWstry, ~vill ren(ler that which was luau and sun rle coniplicated and obscureprolong the decision, defeat the ends of jost cc, set peighhors ~vho have lived in peace utt open strife, entail ruin upon many, do good to none but themselves, uti]d who. after having pIuc~ed us clean, will leave us to get ne-fledged as we may, arid laugh at us for our fully in havin0 allowed them to oW- rain a tootii)g among us. But in summing up our presentment against the barristers, whom we have thus formally cited to the bar of public opinion, we deem it needless to indulge in further specifications; and shall close our appeal by a few brief allusions to the unrepealed absurdities of the law of the land itself. We are indebted fur the following observations and facts to a re- cent number of the London Sunday Times: Instead of an authorised guide, briefly and intelligibly explaining the nature of criminal actions and their punishments, the criminal law, and the rules for its administration, consist of a huge farrago of legislative acts, traditionary maxims, usages, and uncouth forms of process. There are hardships and barbarisms in the administration of criminal law, as well as in its letter and general typein the onus imposed on the private prose- cution of public oflencesin the retention of a double or treble ordeal before the committing magistrates, and a grand and petty juryand in the forms of proce- dure. For example, is a privae person who brings a thief or swindler before a magistrate etIlcien:ly assisted in any shape? Where he mi0ht reasonably expect a coadjutor in so laudable a purpose, he meets an opponent. Almost the first thing he hears is the magistrate taking the part of the accused, and cautioning him against saying anything that may criminate himself, or that may be usco against him on his trial, just as if the end sought was the escape or impunity of the accused, not his appropriate punishment. Hardly less absurd is the next stage of the process, in the retention of the old custom of asking a prisoner how lte will be tried. A proper question, no doubt, in times past, when there were, perhaps, half a dozen different modes of trial, and the culprit had his choice, to be tried by the ordeal of fire or water, by wager of battle, or his corsned, when criminality was tested by the greater or less width of the throat; butthe interrogatory is now an idle and irrelevant mockery. A person has no option about his mode of trial, and is either summarily convicted, or sent before a jury. In an after stage the form is not less preposterous. The prisoner being asked, guilty or not guilty ; not guilty is, of course, the usual rejoinder. How c9uld a person be expected to answer otherwise, es~)ecially as he has been cau~io~ ci frern the first, by his guide, philosopher and friend, the attoraey-justicc, to be ~aref I not to utter anythin0 to his own detriment? 1848.] Sartor Resartus. 139 SARTOII RESARTIJS,* Tnis work of ~n earnest, independent thinker, may now be considered as fairly before the public. Criticism has no longer to do with the foolish question of its origin, which indeed never merited any r~tl discussion. V/hen the author says, 1eufelsdrockhs Biography is suspected of con- taining only a hieroglyphical truth, and, our private conjecture, now amounting almost to certainty, is that, safe-moored in some stillest obscu- rity, not to lie always still, Teufelsdrockh is actually in London ! it does not seem to us that, with all his editorial difficulties, he intended to be taken in earnest, although he might have wished, in his under-ground humorous, arid intricate sardonic rogueries, to entice thither some of the knowing ones, to see, in his half-devlish way. how the fools would look. A work purporting to issue from the press of Sillsc/iweign u,~d Gognie Silence and Company, at the University of TVeisnic/#twoknow-not-where; entitled Sartor Resart~sthe Tailor Patched ; on the subject of Die kici- der, i/u lVerd,~n and WirkenClothes, their Origin and Juifluence- writ teti by a Professor of Things in General, who spent his youthful period at the little town of En/epfulDuck-pond, who was educated at a nameless university; fell madly in love with BlumineFlower-Goddess; was be- trayed by his false friend Towgood ( Toug1~gut;) was attended by Coun- sellor fleusclirekeGrasshopper, whose yoked heathen and Babel name of Diogenes Teufelsdrockh was searched after to rio purpose through all the heralds books in and out of the German empire, and through all man- ner of subscribers-lists, militia-rolls, and other name-catalogues, nowhere occnrrincr among extraordinary German names; shows on its very face marks of a fanciful origin, which is riot so much to be attributed to the seeming almost owlish purblindness of the editor, who gives us an ac- count of it with such provoking gravity, as to his perverse, ineffectual, ironic tendency. When taken literally, all this may seem absurd enough, yet, in a certain sense, we do not doubt the German origin of the Clothes Philosophy. Germany, with its Jean Paul Richter, Novalis, \Vieland, Schiller, Goethe, and others, has been to the Editor the huge Clothes-Volume; and from that land whose literature and philosophy he has so loved, the Six consid- erable Paper Bags, carefully sealed arid marked successively in gilt China- ink with the symbols of the six southern signs, beginning at Lilra, have, no doubt, in a synibolical manner, come. The whole, almost amorphous mass, has passed through the crucible of his own powerful mind, 5u1)jected to the heat of earnest thought, evaporated by continued reflection, decom- posed by critical acumen, crystalized by clear reason, and the restilt is, one of the deepest philosophical productions of the age. For those who say they do not understand Carlyle, on account of his style of writing, we have no oti er consolation than to tell them that the fault must be their own. Although his dialect, as has been asserted, is soniewhat Babylonish, yet he never fails to express himself in a strong, clear, forcibte manner; so that, if the reader does iiot comprehend his mean- rng, it must be owing to his own want of ability. Indeed,~we have heard * Sartor Pesartus: The Life and Opinions of Herr Teufelsdrockh. In three Books. New- York: Wiley & Putnam.

1848.] Sartor Resartus. 139 SARTOII RESARTIJS,* Tnis work of ~n earnest, independent thinker, may now be considered as fairly before the public. Criticism has no longer to do with the foolish question of its origin, which indeed never merited any r~tl discussion. V/hen the author says, 1eufelsdrockhs Biography is suspected of con- taining only a hieroglyphical truth, and, our private conjecture, now amounting almost to certainty, is that, safe-moored in some stillest obscu- rity, not to lie always still, Teufelsdrockh is actually in London ! it does not seem to us that, with all his editorial difficulties, he intended to be taken in earnest, although he might have wished, in his under-ground humorous, arid intricate sardonic rogueries, to entice thither some of the knowing ones, to see, in his half-devlish way. how the fools would look. A work purporting to issue from the press of Sillsc/iweign u,~d Gognie Silence and Company, at the University of TVeisnic/#twoknow-not-where; entitled Sartor Resart~sthe Tailor Patched ; on the subject of Die kici- der, i/u lVerd,~n and WirkenClothes, their Origin and Juifluence- writ teti by a Professor of Things in General, who spent his youthful period at the little town of En/epfulDuck-pond, who was educated at a nameless university; fell madly in love with BlumineFlower-Goddess; was be- trayed by his false friend Towgood ( Toug1~gut;) was attended by Coun- sellor fleusclirekeGrasshopper, whose yoked heathen and Babel name of Diogenes Teufelsdrockh was searched after to rio purpose through all the heralds books in and out of the German empire, and through all man- ner of subscribers-lists, militia-rolls, and other name-catalogues, nowhere occnrrincr among extraordinary German names; shows on its very face marks of a fanciful origin, which is riot so much to be attributed to the seeming almost owlish purblindness of the editor, who gives us an ac- count of it with such provoking gravity, as to his perverse, ineffectual, ironic tendency. When taken literally, all this may seem absurd enough, yet, in a certain sense, we do not doubt the German origin of the Clothes Philosophy. Germany, with its Jean Paul Richter, Novalis, \Vieland, Schiller, Goethe, and others, has been to the Editor the huge Clothes-Volume; and from that land whose literature and philosophy he has so loved, the Six consid- erable Paper Bags, carefully sealed arid marked successively in gilt China- ink with the symbols of the six southern signs, beginning at Lilra, have, no doubt, in a synibolical manner, come. The whole, almost amorphous mass, has passed through the crucible of his own powerful mind, 5u1)jected to the heat of earnest thought, evaporated by continued reflection, decom- posed by critical acumen, crystalized by clear reason, and the restilt is, one of the deepest philosophical productions of the age. For those who say they do not understand Carlyle, on account of his style of writing, we have no oti er consolation than to tell them that the fault must be their own. Although his dialect, as has been asserted, is soniewhat Babylonish, yet he never fails to express himself in a strong, clear, forcibte manner; so that, if the reader does iiot comprehend his mean- rng, it must be owing to his own want of ability. Indeed,~we have heard * Sartor Pesartus: The Life and Opinions of Herr Teufelsdrockh. In three Books. New- York: Wiley & Putnam. 140 Sartor Resartus. [August, many talk very learnedly about Carlyles obscurity, who might have taken some less laborious way of showing their incapacity, or who perhaps did not need to make any effort to show what ~v~ts already too obvious. We admit that his style is peculiar, and full of German idioms. This we should not hastily call the result of affectation and pedantry, for one who ~vas said by Goethe to understand German literature better than the Germans themselves, mu3t necessarily have become so familiar with their language, that his English could hardly escape contamination; yet there are very many expresstons which, to say the least, are quite unusual, if not entirely new~ Witness the following, selected from the volume before us Clear logically-founded Transcendentalism; immeasurable circumambi- ent realm of Nothingness and Ni~hn; World Mahlstromn of Hutnor; Heaven-kissing corruscations; re-genesis and self-perfecting vitality; Emblem and beatified Ghost of an Apron; Serbonian Bogs of Sariscu- lottism; Gehenna BaililTh that patrol and inhabit ever-varied Titne; Orthodox Anthropomorphism; ftre-developement of the Universal Spir- itual Flectricity; Outskirts of Aesthetic Tea; Celestial Lubberland ; Baphometic fire-baptism; Powder-Devilkins; Owndom-conserving; Divine idea of the universe; Motive-Mill Wrights; fixed-idea; Pen- cardial Nervous Tissue of Religion; Phmnix-cremation; infernal boil- ~ up of the Nether Chaotic Deep ; wildflaming, wildthundering train of Heavens Artillery; Phcenix Death-Birth of human Society; Divine Idea of Cloth; inverted fragment of a Brahminical feeling; Earth shivered into impalpable smoke by Dooms-Thunderpeal; amaurosis-suf- fusions; 0 morphous plum-pudding; & c., & c. Some of these look like strangers; some like foreigners unacquainted ~yith our manners, customs, and language; others like weary wanderers from Babel which have here found rest for the first time. Many thanks to the man whose mental house is large enough to lodge them all, and whose intellectual wealth is sufficient to provide for them all good nourishment. His style is considered by many as qmite too metaph)rical. As an ex- ample of metaphor we give the following, which may serve at the same tinme both for explanation and defence, and show how his style is so graphic Language is called the garment of Thought; however, it should rather be, Language is the FleshGarment, the Body of Thought. I said that imagination wove the Flesh-Garment; and does she not ~ Meta- phors are her stuff; examine Language; what, if you except some few primitive elements (of natural sound,) what is it all but Metaphor, recog- nised as such, or recognised no longer; still fluid and florid, or now solid grown and colorless? If those same primitive elements are the osseous fixtures in the Flesh-Garment Language, then are Metaphors its n~us- des and tissues and living-integuments. An unmetaphonical style you shall in vaimi seek for: is not your very attention a stretching to? lhe dif- ference lies here: some styles are lean and wiry, the muscle itself seems osseous; some eve-i quite pallid, hunger-bitteti, and dead-looking; while others again glow in the flush of health and vigorous self-growth. some- times (as in my own case) not without an apoplectic tendency. Moreover, there are sham Metaphors, which overhang that same thoughts body, (best naked) and deceptively bedizening, or bolstering it out, may be called its false stuffings, superfluous show cloaks, anl(l tawdry woollen rags; whereof he that runs and reads may gather whole hampers, and burn them. Before proceeding to examine his philosophic system, we are compelled to confess that we are not pleased with his round about way of getting at 1848.] Sartor Resartus. 141 what he has to propose. Glad we are to receive it, on any terms; but why could he not have spoken to us in a direct manner without first going away ronadnot by Robin Hoods, bnt by Teufelsdrockhs barn ? All this fooling about Paper Bags, a duck-pond, a profusion of matters and things in general and clothes philosophy in particular, to say nothing of dandies and tailors, is certainly unworthy so great a philosopher, so profound a thinker, so able a critic. His work is interesting, at least to the philo- sophic thinker, and is a master-piece of boldness, lynx-eyed acuteness, and rugged independent Germanism and Philanthropy. But why must we wade through an interminable sea of moonshine, not without encountering ghosts of dead systems that squeak and jibber through imaginary realms of Nothingness and Night, befire we can come at its real meaning? Why could not the powerful author, as seems to have been his design, have giveti us a criticism of human society, sparing no error, however ven- erable by age; probing every festering sore upon the body politic, however tender; exposing corruption in the Church, fearless of the clergys frown; discussing with characteristic boldness defects in our social system; de- nouncing with unusual severity every form of utilitarianism; warning men to get aL least soul enough to keep their pampered bodies from heconiing putrescent; breaking the shackles of custom, by which nearly all are more or less fettered ; commanding mankind not to lose sight of the wonderful in creation; teaching us to regard man as an invisible spirit, a revealed force, acting through a material organization upon the external material world; assisting us to annihilate in our own minds the ideas of time and space, thus rending the veil of eternity, and giving us a foretaste of free- dom and immortality; why would he not have done all this without his long tedious talk about cloth? If he did not intend to have the pretended German origin of his work considered as a reality, how are we to consider the long commentaries upon those portions of the work that purport to be translations? It is virtually criticising and eulogising ones own work; writing a running commentary to be published at the same time with it. We are reminded of a certain anonymous scribbler, who was in the habit of sending round to the newspa- pers favorable notices of whatever ephemeral thing of his might have just been published. Is such a thing compatible with the dignity of a philo- soplaic author? He must either acknowledge that he intended to deceive the public in regard to its foreign origin, or subject himself to the last charge. Although we can recommend the work to the thinkers, and acknow- ledge the authors almost boundless learning, and that all reading arid lit- erature in most known tongues,, from Sanc/,oniaihon to Dr. & ngard, from your Orieiital Skaders, and Talmuds, and Korans, with Cassinis Siamese Tables, and Laplaces M~canique Gdeste down to Robinson Grusoe and Befast Town and Countn,i Almanack are familiar to him; yet there is in his book great want of arrangement. To use his own langtiage, many sectiomas are of a debatable rubric, or even quite nondescript arid unnamea- ble, whereby the book not only looses in accessibility, but too often dis- tresses us like some mad banquet. wherein all courses had been confounded, and lish and flesh, soup and solid, oyster-sauce, lettuces, Rhine-wine and French mustard, were hurled into one huge tureen or trough, amad thac hungry Public invited to help itself. Ima passing, we must be permitted one word for the itnitators of Carlyle. This class of omniverous bipeds is already quite large, and, what is more to he dreaded, is every day hecoming larger. As Madame de Stacl justly says, imitation is a certain species of death, so we fear that Carlyles path 142 Sartor Resartus. [August, will soon be bloc ked up with carrion which is not to be endured, and re- quires (Juite too much time to bury it. It is muGh easier to imitate the vices of a gre~tt man than his virtues. Gai:i~ pretends to Catos fame; By Catos vice he shows his claim. Carlyle is original in almost every respect, and we can bear with his few faults, ~vhicIi are not borrowed ones, for the sake of his many virtues, if a man of equal power were to imitate his style of writing, we should not eii- dure it for a moment; but when men of ordinary abilities and acquireinents attempt to appear in the armor of one who is head and shoulders above them, we know not whether to laugh or weep. Notwithstanding their stout declarations that they walk on two legs, and, at least, p irtly erect, ~ve are nevertheless unable to resist the conviction caused by their a j)ish looks. My brother, if you are able to be only an infinitesimal, shrew-mouse- squeaklet of a man, be that on your own basis, and not go hanging to the tail of an elephant all the way through life ; thus, by most ridiculous con- trast, provoking laughter from the multitude. You certainly would look much larger alone. We now come to the more interesting subject of his philosophy. It is no easy task to get at the real meaning of the work, for it treats of the most abstruse ideas. The author endeavors to show that all Forms where- by Spirit Nianifests itself to Sense, whether outwardly or in the imagina- tion, are Clothes, and thus not only the parchment Magna Charta, ~vhich a tailor was nigh cuttii)g into measures, but the Pomp and Authority of Law, the sacredness of Majesty, and all inferior Worships (Worth-ships.) are properly a Vesture and Raiment ; and the Thirty-nine Articles them- selves are articles of wearing apparel (for the Religious Idea.) He strips off the outmost vulgar p mlpuble Woollen Hulls of Man ; his wondrous Flesh-Garments amid his wondrous Social Garnitures ; and finally the Garments of his very Souls Soul, Time and Space themselves, endeav- oring to give us an ide~ of mm as a spiritual beingas an invisible firce, revealing itself by means of a visible material form, which the drow~y world mistake for man himself. Of his Esprit de Costumes; of his somewhat new ideas in regard to the origin of clothes; of those mysterious changes which have been wrought, not by Time, yetin Tine ; of the amber-locked, smiowamid roseblnomn maideii descended from the hair-mantled, fimnt-hurlimmg Abori- ginal Anthropophagus; of the armies disbanded, kimigs aimd senates cash- iered by himma who first shortened the labor of Copyists by (levice of Movea- ble Types; of the Clothes that have made men of us, threateiing to make Clothes-screens of us; of man as a lool-using Animal; of the inert who have made governments amid say to them, Make this nation toil fin us, b/ted for us, hunger and sorrow Jor us, anti sin Jor us; of a huge scarlet-colored, iron-fastened Apron, in the shape of a whole Military amid Police Establishment, charges at uncalculated millions, worn in this Devils-Smithy of a world; of The Journalists, as the true Kings amid Clergy ; of the valuable descriptive History already existing (?) of the British New~paper Press, under the title of SATANS INVisiBLE WoRI~D DISPLAYED ; of the lengthy amid rather Imidicrous description of the Ger- man fashionable dress (if the Fifteenth cemitm]rv ;of all this ~ve need omily say, that, mi rather a round about way, time author is endeavoring in his owmt satirical manner, to give us his imlea of the World in Clothes. lie then be~iims to turn our attention withimi, th:mt we may get some notion of spiritual life which exists beneatli all this outward covering. We 1848 ~ Sartor Resartus. 143 mint copy from his own language, not only becau~e his meaning will thus be best expressed. but also because we then shall not be accused of giving a one-si(led view or a j)artial judgment. Wjth men of a speculative turn, he writes, there come seasons, medi- tative. sweet, yet awful hours, when in wonder and fear you ask yourself that unanswerable (lutstlon Who am I; the thing that can say I? The world, with its loud trafficking, retires into the distance and through the paper-hangings and stone-walls, and thick-plied tissues of Conirnerce and Polity, and the living and lifeless integunients (of Society and a body,) wherewith your Existence sits surreundedihe sight reaches forth itit() he void Deep. and you are alone with the Universe, and sileiit!y commune wah it as otie mysterious presence with another. After describing the world as a l)ream-grotto, he breaks nut in the fol- lo~ving passage of unsurpassed sublimity, front which the more speculative wil be able to gather some more deeply significant meaning : Be not the slave of Words is not the Distant, the Dead, while I love it, and bug for it, and mourn for it, Here, in the genuine sense, as truy as the floor I stand on? But that same Where, with ins brother Wh n, are from the first the master colors of our Dream-grotto ; say rather, the Canvass, (the warp and the woof thereof) whereon all our l)reams atid Lifevisions are painted. Nevertheless, ha0 not a deeper meditation taught certain of every climate and age that the Where and the H7hen, so mysteriously inseparalile from all our thoughts, are but superficial terrestrial adhesions to thought; that the Seer may discern them where they mount up out of the celestial Everywhere and .F~,rever? Ilave not all Fiat ions conceived their G~d as Omnipresent and Eternal ; as existing in a urt~vers:il Fire, an everlasting Now? Think wellthou, too, wilt find that Spice is but a mode of our human sense,- so likewise Time; there is no Space aiid no Titate: lYe arewe ktmo~v not whamlightsparkles, floating in the ether of Deity. a So that this so solid-seeming World, after all, were but an air-image our inc the only reality and Nature, with its thousand-fold I)roduction rind destruction, hut the reflex of our own inward Force, the phantasy (it our Dream, or what the Earth Spirit in Faust names it, the living vi~ible Garment of Gud In Beings floods, in Actions storm, I walk and work, above. beteaih, Work and weave in endless motion! Birth and Death, An infinite ocean; A seizing and giving The fi st of the Living: ls thus at the roaring Loom of Time I pty, And weave fur God the Garments thou seest Hun by ! With such speculations as these he hovers round awhile; growling at rnanikiiid for ceasing to be moved by the Wonders and Terrors which ev- erywhere surround them ; telling them that they are thatched over with the dead fleeces of sheep, the bark of vegetables, the entrails of worms, the hides of oxen or seals, the felt of furred beasts, walking abroad rnov- ing rag-screens, overheaned with shreds and tatters raked from the C bar nelhouse of Nature ; callinir them dustmaking l)ateuit Raggrinders; then pounces upon them, and, ere you are aware, is exhibiting man, in the language of Swift, as a forked straddling animil with batidy legs. Read the flbowing, unless you are compelled to hide your face in your hands OItemi iii my atr;tbiliati moods, ~vhen I read of poinpotts ceremonials, Fratik fort Coronations, Royal Drawingrooms, Levees, Couches ; and how the ushers, and itmacers, and pursuivants are all in waiting; how Duke this 144 aSartor Resattus. [Augu~t~ is presented by Archduke that; and Colonel A. by General B.; and innu- merable Bishops, Admirals, and miscellaneous Functionaries, are advancing to the Anointed presence; and I strive, in my remote privacy, to form a clear picture of th:tt solemnityon a sudden, as hy some enchanters wand, theshall I say it ?the clothes fly off the whole dramatic corps, and Dukes, Grandees, Bishops, Generals, Anointed Presence itself, every mothers son of them stand straddling there, not a shirt on them ; and I know not whether to laugh or weep. This physical or psychical infirmity, in which perhaps I am not singular, I have, after hesitation, thought right to puhlish, for the solace of those who are afflicted with the like. What would Majesty do, could such an event befall in reality; should the buttons all simultaneously start, and the solid wool evaporate, in very Deed, as here in l)ream? Ach Gott! How each skulks into the nearest hiding place; their high state Tragedy becomes a Pickleherring Farce to weep at, ~vhich is the worst kind of Farce; the tables (according to Hor- ace,) and with them the ~vhole fabric of Government, Legislation, Prop- erty, Police, and Civilized Society, are dissolved in wails arid howls. He stops not here, but continues to the soul itself. He goes about it, to borrow his expression, with such a devilish coolness, like either the mod- est or malignest Sansculottist, that we tremble with awe, while we cannot help laughing outright. To the eye of vulgar Logic what is man? Art onmniverous Biped that wears Breeches. To the eye of Pure Reason what is he? A Soul, a Spirit, and divine Apparition. Roumid his mysterious Ale, there lies under all those ~vool-rags a Garment of Flesh (or cf Sense,) contextured in the Loom of heaven, whereby he is revealed to his like, and dwells with them in Un2on and Division; and sees and fashions for himself a Universe, with azure Starry Spaces, and long Thousands of Years. Deep-hidden is he under that strange Garment; amid Sounds, and Colors, and Forms, as it were, swathed in, and inextricably overshrouded: yet it is skywoven and worthy of a God. Stands lie not thereby in the centre of immemisities, in the conflux of Eternities? He feels; power has been given him to know, to believe; nay, does not the spirit of Love, free in celestial primeval brightness, even here, though but l~r moments, look throtigh? Well said Saint Chrysostom, with his lips of gold, the true Shekeniab is Man ; where else is the Gods-Presence manifest not to our eyes only, but ti~ our hearts, as in our fellow-man ? Happy he who can look through the Clothes of a man (the woollen, and fleshy, and official Bank-paper, and State.paper Clothes,) into the Man himself; and discern, it may be, in this or the other 1)ead Potentate, a more or less incompetent Digestive-apparatus, yet also an inscrutable ven- erable Mystery, in the meanest Thinker that sees ~vith eyes! Those who have no eye for Mystery may cry enough; but we must say, in sorrow rather than in anger, that to them the world is without true sig- nificance; it is a mere machinean old eight-day clock, that will not run unless it is wound up once in so often. The scientific, so-called, may be- come familiar with all the material which is used in the work-shop of cre- ation, yet if they regard not the invisible mysterious power which moves the whole, they become Arithmetical Mills, whereof Memory is the Hopper, and mere Tables of Lines and Tangents, Codification, and Treat- ises of what you call Political Economy, are the Meal. The learned Professor, to borrow an idea from Macaulay, often digs a hole with incredi- ble industry into some barren rock, until he gets in so far that he is unable to back out. He carries with him a dim sort of rush-light, and, while he himself has become mole-eyed in the dark, thinks all without must be groping their way in obscurest night, although the sun may be far up; yet XS48J Sartor Resartus~ 145 probably not in mid heaven, The man who cannot wonder, who does not habitually wonder (and ~vorship,) were he President ot innumerable Royal Societies, and carried the whole Mecanique (ie/este and Hege1~ Philosophy, and the epitome of all Laboratories and Observatories with their results, in his single head, is but a Pair of Spectacles behind which there is no eye. Let those who have Eyes look through him, then he may be useful ! If any one will explain or account for that mysterious in~ fluence which matter has upon matter, which we call Attraction of Gravi- tation, we will abandon our veneration for the XVonderful and l)ecOme a follower of the Dilettante and sand-blind Pedant: behold the blind lead the blind! In the midst of all these speculations, through the kindness of a Scottish Hamburg merchant, arrives the bulky Weisnichtwo Packet, with all it~ Customhouse seals, foreign hieroglyphs, and miscellaneous tokens of Travel from the venerab!e Counsillor Grasshopper. The inexorable Edi- tor, in whom truly we more and mo e (liscern a certain satirical turn, and deep under-current of roguish whim, gives us a fanciful Biography of his learned Professor, occupying nearly half his hook. It is not withotK its own significance, but our limits forbid anything like a thorough analy- sis. In short, it is the mental history of one whose seed field is Time, to whom no conquest is important but that of ideas. We are shown the gradual development of a naturally strsmg mind, until it is capable of com~ prehending the highest thoughtsuntil, in fine, it is able to produce a Phlosophy of Cluthes. Left by unknown hands to the eare of peasants, he passed in a cottage ~ Iltppy season of Chil(lhoOd. He seems to have been a dreamy youth, vhose Intellect and Activity were mostly called forth by childish sports, banging upon th~ ~vild stories of the old soldier Andreas, his false father, a much-enduring Man, and never having any serious reflection until hG arrived at the insignificant conclt~sion that Any road, this simple Entep full road, will lead you to the end of the world. He was early habituated to obedience, in which it was beyond measure better to err by excess than by defect; and, what was of priceless value, was taught by his supposed ~,other, less indeed by word than by act, and daily reverer~t look and habi- tude, her own simple version of the Christain Faith, from whidi he was led to the wise conclusion that he would rather be a peasants son that knew, were it never so rudely, there was a God in Heaven and in Man, than to he a dukes son, that only knew there were t~vo-ai~d-thirty quarters un the family-coach. In his Gymnastic and Academic years, while his teactiers were hide- bound Ped ants, without knowledge of mans nature or of boys, or of aught save their lexicons and quarterly account-books, understanding instead of Language, innumerable dead vocables, he seems to have been far less happy thin during his childhood. In the mean time father Andreas seems to have died, and he first learned the awful significance of that inexorable word Never, and got some faint glimpse of a future resta Mothers bosom, where Oppressions harness, and Sorrows fire-whip cannot come. He next enters a university. After much pointed satire aimed at uni- versities in general, an attack is made upon the one where he was educa- ted, which was the worst of all out of England and Spain. [lad you, anywhere in Crim Tartary, walled-in a square enclosure, furnished it tvith a small, ill-chosen Library, and then turned loose into it eleven hundred Chtistian striplings, to tumble about as they listed, from three to seven years; certain persons, under the title of Professors, being stationed at th~ VOL. XxllI.NO cxxii. 4 146 Sartor Resartus. [August, gates, to declare aloud that it was a university, and exact considerable ad- mission fees, you had, not indeed in mechanical structure, yet ~n spirit and result, some imperfect resemblance of our High Seminary. Are there any such in our country? Notwithstanding his acknowledgment of the all-but omnipotence of early culture and nurture, he seems to have mastered many languagesto have got much useful miscellaneous knowledge from the library, not by the aid of the Professors, but in spite of them. We must hasten from the sub- ject of Pedagogy, not without joining with the Professors wail, that communities and individuals have not yet discovered that fashioning the souls of a generation by knowledge can rank on a level with blowint~ their bodies to pieces with gunpowder; that with Generals and Field-Marshals for killing, there should be world-honored Dignitaries,.and were it possible, true God-ordained Priests, for teaching. After a quite romantic friendship with a young Englishman, he escaped from the college-prison a Thinking Manthe worst enemy of the Prince of Darkness. Talented wonderfully enough, poor, unfriendly, bashful, the outward capability not fitting the inward, he betakes himself to the study of the law, and soon comes out an Auscultator of respectability. He had no sympathy with his fellowsmere wordlingsand found that as a Son of Time, he, too, must enact that stern Monodrama, no Object and no Rest. He struggles with destiny until, in bitterness of soul, he comes to the foolish conclusion that the world is an ohi woman, and mistakes any gilt farthing for a gold coin, whereby being often cheated, she will thenceforth trust nothing but the common copper. Believing it to be his whole duty to move, to work, in the right direction, regarding inert with an excess both of love and of fear, blamed and hated by those who knew him not, he was quite unable to make way for himself in life. While thus endeavoring to get under way, he is suddenly detained upon a Calypso-Island In a family of some fortune, he is introduced to the far-famed Blumnine. She smiles on him, and notwithstanding he had at first taken her to be a blooming warm Earth-angel, much more enchanting than your mere white Heaven-angels of women, in whose pla- cid veins circulates too little naphtha-fire, he soon falls hopelessly in love with her. She returned his passion, and his whole, heart, and soul, and life were hers. Alas, his intoxicating dream is not to last lie finds his Morning Star at length dimmed with a.cloud of tears, and like the an- nouncement of the dawn of Doomsday, he receives from her o~vn sweet, tremulous voice, they were to meet no more! Farewell, then, Madam! follows; but in wild audacity he clasped her to his bosom; their lips were joinedtheir two souls, like two dew-drops, rushed into one, for the first time, and for the last. He was made immortal by a kiss. Next follows his sorrows. The thick curtains of night rushed over his soul; he took his Pilgrim-staff, and became a lone wanderer on the earth. He had not yet come to the dregs of his bitter cup. While con- templating the sublimest mountain scenery, absorbed in the deep thoughts which it suggested, a wedding party dashed gaily by, in a barouche-and- four. In it were his false friend Towgood and Blumine. With slight unrecognising salutation they passed me; plunged down amid the neigh- boring thickets, onward to Heaven, and to England; and I, in my friend Richters words, I remained alone, behind them, with the night. Some may enquire for the cause of all this. He was poor. We cannot follow him through all his wanderingsraihngs against the world, and all his awful unbelief. At length deliverance caine, for he de- fied Death, Tophet, the Devil and Man, with an Everlasting No. He re 1848.] Sartor Resartus. 147 mained awhile irresolute in the centre of Indifference, but finally, by an Everlasting Yea, came out reconciled to the conditions of life, exclaiming, Poor, wandering, wayward man! Art thou not tried arid beaten with stripes, even as I am! Ever, whether thou bear the royal mantle or the beggars gabardine, art thou not so weary, so heavy laden; and thy Bed of Rest is but a grave. Oh, my brother! my brother! why cannot I shelter thee in my bosom, and wipe a~vay all tears from thy eyes? lIe banished that black spot in our sunshine, the Shadow of Ourselves, and cried, there is in man a Higher than love of Happiness; he can do without Hap- piness, and instead thereof find Blessedness. Was it not to preach forth \thi5 same higher that sages and martyrs, the Poet and the Priest, in all times, have spoken and suffered, leaving testimony, through life and through death, of the Godlike that is in man, and how in the Godlike only has he strength and freedom? Thus was it that he worked his way through the external world intG the very soul of the world. Through such a school of Experience did he pass, by which his mind was so disciplined that he could comprehend the sublimest truths, which he gave to the world in huge Clothes Philosophy. The fanciful Biography is not without, at least, a symbolical meaning, an ideal significance. It is perhaps the true history of every strong and ear- nest mind in its progressive developement, in its advance to the highest re- gion of thought. We may be accused in all this of favoring Transcenden- talism, but we earnestly beseech the opposer of Transcendantalism to be perfectly sure that he rightly understands what he would oppose. We dare not declare ourself a Transcendentalist, still less dare we declare that we are not one. At length, after the Biography closes, the Clothes Philosophy is resumed. We must pass by the perennial suit of George Fox; Church-Clothes that have gone sorrowfully out at elbows, or have become mere hollow shapes or masks, under which no living Figure or Spirit any longer dwells; Sym- bols in and through which man consciously and unconsciously lives, works, and has his being, which superannuated and worn out (in this Ragfair of a world) are dropping everywhere, to hoodwink, to halter, to tether you nay, if you do not shake them aside, threatening to accumulate, and per- haps produce suffocation; Helotaye, in which chapter he seems to give an awful thrust at those who advocate war on the ground of over-p~ula~ tion; Society, where Friendship, Communion, has become an incredible tradition, and your holy Sacramental Supper is a smoking Tavern Dinners with Cook for Evangelist, where your Priest has no tongue but for plate- living; Body Politic, which the Soul Politic having departed, must be decently interred, to avoid putrescence; Liberals, Economists, Utilita- rians marching with its bier, and chaunting loud pa~ans, towards the funeral pile, where, amid wailings from some, and saturnalian revelries from the most, the venerable corpse is to be burned; the Indictment which Poverty and vice brings against lazy wealth, that it has left them cast out and trod- den under foot of Want, Darkness, and the Devil; the regeneration of so- ciety, when the new Phmruix shall rise out of the ashes of the old, and Gods universe shall become a Symbol of the Godlike, Immensity a Temple, Mans History a perpetual Evangel, the singing together of the Morning Stars the real Organ-music ;we must pass by all these, which, notwithstanding the terrific satirical spirit which pervades them, are not without a deep interest, and hasten to that sublime chapter, strangely, yet significantly enough entitled, Natural Supernaturalism. We have now arrived with the author to the last step in his philosophy He endeavors to divest the soul of man of its ideas of Time and Space, but [August9 148 Sartor Resartus. how effectually he has done it, we cannot judge for others: much will depend upon the speculative faculty of the individual reader. We can only give the closing 1)aragraphs, which cannot he too often quoted or too often read. Oh Heaven ! it is mysteriousit is awful to consider that we riot only carry each a future Ghost wiihin him hut we are, in every deed, ghosts These Limbs, whence had ~ve them ; this stormy Force this life-blood, with its burning Passions~ They are (lust and shadow ; a shadow-system gather- ed round about me; wherein through some moments or years, the Divine Essence is to be revealed in the Flesh. That warrior on his strong ~v~r house, fire flashes through his eyes, force dwells in his arm and heart; but warrior and ~var-horse are a vision, a revealed forcenothing more. Stately they tread the Earth as if it were a firm substance fool! the Earth is but a film ; it cracks in twain, ali(l warrior and ~var-horse sink beyond plummets sounding. Plummc-ts! Phantasy herself will not follow them. A little while and they ~vere not; a little while and they are not, their very ashes are not So has it been from the beginning, so will it he to the end. Generation after generation takes to itself the Form of a Body ; and forth-issuing from ,~i mmerian night, on Heaven~ s mission, APPEAB5. What Force and Fire is in each re-expends: one grinding in the mill of Industry; otie, hunter-liko, climbing the giddy Alpine heights of Science; one madly dashed in pieces on the rock~ of Strife, in war with his fellow ; and then the Heaven sent is ri~called; his earthly vesture falls away, and sown even to sense becomes a vanished shad~~v. Thus, like sorre ~vild-fiowing, ~vild-thnndering train of Heavens Artill~y, does the mysterious MANKIND thunder and flow, ii lang-dra~vr, quick-succeedin~ grandeur, through the unknown deep. I hus, like a God-created, fire-breathing Spirit-host, we emerge from the 1nane~ haste stormfully across the astonished earth ; then plunge again into the Inane. Earths mountains are levelled and her seas filled up in our pas- sage. Can the earth, which is hut (leath amid a vision, resist Spirits which have reality, and are alive ~ On the harde~t adamant some foot-print of us is stamped in K the last hear of the host wi~l read traces of the earliest van. But whence A Heaven whither? Sense knows not; Faith knows not; only that it is through mystery to mystery, from God to God We arc such stuff As dreams are made ul, atot our little life Is soundest with a sleep. After saying much, not altogether idly, about dandies and tailors, he closes with a fearful contrast between the wealthy fashionable class of Eng- land and the Irish pt)or. He has a curse for Pelhom amid the frequenters of AIm acks, while his heart is bleeding f~r the destitute and oppressed, es- pecially for the wretched of Ireland ; and rightly too. Poor scathed, down- troddemi, enslaved, bleeding, starving, heart-broketi, despairing Irelatid, like the fleece of Gideon, is dry, while all surrounding Europe is moistened with the dew of social and political revolution. To the best of our feeble ability we have thus endeavored to explain the most enigmatical of all Carl~les works. We have not done this for the sake of those who have from the beginning read and studied him well, but to re- move, if possible, the prejudices of many who may have been alarnied by the cry of obscurity or Transcendentalism, amid to induce them to. cultivate an acquaintance with an author ~vho, if he does nothing more, will certainly arouse their thinking ficulty. With all his satire he is no hater of the world; his very satire is prompted by love of his kimid. He spares not error an(l itijustice wherever they may be found, but no one loves mankind helter. He has the very highest respect for the laborer, whether he work with baud 1S48.j Old Ireland and Young Ireland. 149 heart or head, but curses with his whole soul those false social and political institutions which compel the laborer to starve, while the few riot on the fruits of his toil. H is book is one of the few which, amid all the present froth ocean of li- terature, is destined to last. XATe care say to him in the language of Herr Diogenes, 0, thou ~vho art able to write a Book, which once in two centti- ries or oftener there is a man gifed to do, envy not him whom they name City-Builder, and inexpressibly pity him whom they name Conqueror or City-Burner Thou art a great conqueror and victor ; but of the true sort, natiely, over the Devil thou, too, hast built what will outlast all marble and metal, and be a wonder-bringing City of the Mind, a Temple and Semi- nary and Prophetic Mount, whereto all kindness will pilgrimm~ OLD IRELAND AND YOUNG IRELAND. JOHN MITOItEL. WE publish in this number of our Review a faithfully executed likeness of John Mitchel. the Irish Felon by act of Parliament, and we append in accordance with form and precedent the simple particulars of his biogra.. phy, fnrnished by his brother now in this city, and therefore to be fully relied on. We have but one object in view in this proceeding and that is, to show the honest, deep and lasting interest we take in Ireland, her patriots, and her people. We have been slow to express our opinions, because we wished to be sure of their soundness. The time for their expression is now come, and we fling our banner to the breeze. On its folds are inscribed the sim.. pie but inspiring words, Justice for Ireland. It is the wish of our heart, and it shall henceforth be the only thought of our mind; and in sunshine and storm; through weal and woe; for good or ill; we shall advocate it un- till Heaven smile on our invocation arid man accords the boon. The consideration of this momentous question cannot in reason or hu- Inanity be denied us. In times past it has been the custom o~.monarchial countries to interfere by force of arms in the domestic affairs of other coun~ tries, as their interest or caprice suggested. This was brutal and unjust, and we denounce the means as base as the end was usually unworthy. But in tiumes present, it cannot be questioned that democratic communities may, and of right ought to display a generous and justifiable sympathy for the welfare of mankind oppressed, and they proclaim, therefore, this right to give utterar,ce to their opinion; voice to their censure; and aid and advice to the victims of tyranny and abuse all over the world. This is our chart signed by humanity, and endorsed by reason, and we acknowledge no other allegiance. The condition of Irelandthis is the grand topic we propose to treat and briefly, for our limits are narrow. Ihe biography of John Mitchel, one of the latest martyrs, is only the peg on which we shall. hang our re- marks; but it is a strong one, though, and ~vill support us to the end. The condition of Ireland, then, what is it? It is very simple, but very horri- ble. Of a population of eight millions, three millions are paupers, plunged

1S48.j Old Ireland and Young Ireland. 149 heart or head, but curses with his whole soul those false social and political institutions which compel the laborer to starve, while the few riot on the fruits of his toil. H is book is one of the few which, amid all the present froth ocean of li- terature, is destined to last. XATe care say to him in the language of Herr Diogenes, 0, thou ~vho art able to write a Book, which once in two centti- ries or oftener there is a man gifed to do, envy not him whom they name City-Builder, and inexpressibly pity him whom they name Conqueror or City-Burner Thou art a great conqueror and victor ; but of the true sort, natiely, over the Devil thou, too, hast built what will outlast all marble and metal, and be a wonder-bringing City of the Mind, a Temple and Semi- nary and Prophetic Mount, whereto all kindness will pilgrimm~ OLD IRELAND AND YOUNG IRELAND. JOHN MITOItEL. WE publish in this number of our Review a faithfully executed likeness of John Mitchel. the Irish Felon by act of Parliament, and we append in accordance with form and precedent the simple particulars of his biogra.. phy, fnrnished by his brother now in this city, and therefore to be fully relied on. We have but one object in view in this proceeding and that is, to show the honest, deep and lasting interest we take in Ireland, her patriots, and her people. We have been slow to express our opinions, because we wished to be sure of their soundness. The time for their expression is now come, and we fling our banner to the breeze. On its folds are inscribed the sim.. pie but inspiring words, Justice for Ireland. It is the wish of our heart, and it shall henceforth be the only thought of our mind; and in sunshine and storm; through weal and woe; for good or ill; we shall advocate it un- till Heaven smile on our invocation arid man accords the boon. The consideration of this momentous question cannot in reason or hu- Inanity be denied us. In times past it has been the custom o~.monarchial countries to interfere by force of arms in the domestic affairs of other coun~ tries, as their interest or caprice suggested. This was brutal and unjust, and we denounce the means as base as the end was usually unworthy. But in tiumes present, it cannot be questioned that democratic communities may, and of right ought to display a generous and justifiable sympathy for the welfare of mankind oppressed, and they proclaim, therefore, this right to give utterar,ce to their opinion; voice to their censure; and aid and advice to the victims of tyranny and abuse all over the world. This is our chart signed by humanity, and endorsed by reason, and we acknowledge no other allegiance. The condition of Irelandthis is the grand topic we propose to treat and briefly, for our limits are narrow. Ihe biography of John Mitchel, one of the latest martyrs, is only the peg on which we shall. hang our re- marks; but it is a strong one, though, and ~vill support us to the end. The condition of Ireland, then, what is it? It is very simple, but very horri- ble. Of a population of eight millions, three millions are paupers, plunged 159 Old Ireland and Young Ireland. [August, in destitution and misery.* Of the rest, four millions and upwards by su- perior faculties, and with superior means and unceasing efforts, manage barely to get a livelihood. A few thousand proprietors revel in excessive opulence. This, with a difference only of figures, is the actual condition of Eng- land, France, Germany, and all Europe; everywhere the lower classes are imn- poverished and abused by the upper classes; and all by the same means, and in the same mannerthat is, by laws of taxation which fall on the necessa- ries and luxuries of life imported from abroad, and produced at homeand which render their price so considerable as to cut the poor effectually off from their purchase, whilst the enormous and iniquitous revenue thus raised, is wholly appropriated by the richeither in the shape of salaries for offices which they create, or in that of profits from enterprises, manu- facturing, commercial, and banking, which they establish. These infamies the people of Europe begin to understand, and hence their great and des- perate efforts making to overthrow them. But there are misfortunes peculiar to Ireland. She is a conquered coun- try, and in modern times has been treated by her merciless vanquisher with more barbarity than a Roman province was in ancient history. Let us consider this for a moment. The policy of England towards Ireland has ever been heartless, selfish, and impolitic. She has never sought an enlightened profit from its possession, but on the contrary she has always displayed a shallow fear lest Irelands prosperity might effect her own. And what have been the hideous means she has deliberately and for centuries employed? She has, first, made use of her Irish province merely as a source of gov- ernment patronage, as Rome of old sent out her Pro-consuls, and discon- tented politicians, to enrich their coffers by the plunder of her helpless con- quests; so England has constantly flooded Ireland with hungry officials whose sole purpose was spoiliation, and not the welfare of the unhappy land they governed. The object of all English laws for ages past has been, then, to extort by any means, no matter how odious, revenue for her government stipendiaries. The second means, still more effectual, adopted at an early day to keep Ire- land down, was, to give up her broad and fertile lands to the English aris- tocracy. This is the monster grievance under which Ireland labors. Govern- ment pillage she could survive, but the terrible tyranny of English landlords crushes her to the earth. Their object is just the same as the government from which they received their ori~,inal titlesnot the well-being of the mis- erable tenants, but their robbery. Revenuerevenue, is written on both sides of the label flying from the beaks of the double-headed English vulturethe British government, and the British landlordwhich flapping its ponder- * We will merely quote from the mouth of an opponent one of ten thousand cases. The London Times of December 25, 1845, gives the following from the correspondence of a re- porter sent over by that journal to examine the situation of the Irish people. After describing the general wretchedness of the population, this gentleman proceeds A little apart fl-nm the rest was the house of T. Sullivan, who, with his twelve children, a sick cow, and two pigs suf- fering under some malady, occupied the same room. In answer to my inquiries as to his condi- tion he explained, that the food of himself and family all the year round was potsitoes and but- termilk. Were the potatoes good ? Troth, they were not; bad as could be, and he cut open a number fi-om a heap to show the extent of their rottenness. Had he plenty ol pota- toes ? Indeed he had not. Of milk ? No, not half enou0h; never had enough for dinner or breakfast. All his children were as bad off as himself; not half enough to eat an often. ssoehiuu- to driuh. lie had no fish, and very llttle of anythin0. There tias his case, and vet he was a large holder of land. Though his bed was of straw, his cabin falling to piecesand the mud outside percolatin~ to the inteiior, where it was trodden into a filthy, adhesive, earthy glue by the feet and hooves of the semi-naked children, pigs, fowl and cattle- This man is, we are sorry to say, a tenant of Daniel OConnell. What mnasery and desolation! but comment is unnecessary. 1848.] Old Ireland and Young Ireland. 151 over the prostrate body of its prey, has for centuries battened on Good God! is this vampire-process never to cease? In the face of the intelligence, the humanity and the civilization of the 19th century, ~vill England dare to prolong her cruelty, and her foLly? We appeal not to her heart, for she is dead to all sensibility for Irel nd; but we address her understanding, and we shall do it in language, and with a boldness that she must notice and answer. We demand of her what are the results at this day of her Irish policy? Her game is played out; there is no more plunder left, and instead of a source of wealth and strength, Ireland has become an expense and burden to her. This is the end of the inhuman system pursued towards her, and it is at last proved to he not only cruel, but unwise and ruinous. England must support Ireland, when she can no longer support her own people at home, and retribution threatens to overtake her. And what course does she now madly take to arrest the evil? Does she confess her faults and crimes, and change her policy? No, ever brutal and besotted, she gives her- self up to the guidance of an iron-hearted soldier in his dotagethe Duke of Wellington, and she essays by gag-laws and muskets to smother the groans and sobs of a~ony which escape the convulsive bre~sts of her expi- ring victim! What will be the end of it? What from the beginning of the world has ever been the end of injustice, and violence! defeat, disgrace and ruin. It now remains to be seen whether a faction as bloody as they are blind, shall lead England to her perdition, and give Ireland up to butchery; or whether the wise and prudent counsels of an enlightened and sagacious statesman, Sir Robert Peel, shall prevail and save both countries from mutual desolation? It was the infamous Tory faction of England that drove her American colonies to rebellion. It was the same who hunted revolutionary France into forced subjection under the barren sceptre of Louis XVIII; and where, at this day, are the traces of a policy that has piled up a debt in England that lays like a huge mountain on her enter- prise and drains her industry of its last resources. Is England to be for- ever degraded and misled by her aristocracyher Tories and her Whigschildren of the same family, fighting only between themselves for the common spoil, but uniting ever against the true and only heir, the peo- ple? Is there not in that conntry of intelligent men, of true hearts, and lofty mind, one who dares denounce their iniquity and their folly and rescue England and Ireland from their ruthless grasp? You, Sir Robert Peel, who defied their power and spurned their resistance in l845you, who re- pealed the corn-laws, and saved England from revolutionyou, who by birth, belong to the great middle-class, who are pure minded men, but Tory-led and you, who sympathise with the suffering millions of Englandwill not you, the only English statesman who ever manifested a disposition to legislate for Ireland in a spirit of wisdom and benevolencewill you not, now, come forward with your vast knowledge, great experience and consummate ability, and save both countries, England and Ireland, from deadly and ex- terminating slaughter? The struggle, how useless! and the result can be none other than unsatisfactory and incomplete. What can avert it ? How may it be prevented? Nothing so easy, and the remedy consists in three words which we have already pronounced, Justice to Ireland. In what does this justice consist? This is the vital question, and we shall answer it with clearness and truth. It consists, in a word, in the reversal of all Past injustice, and the abandonment of the atrocious system which has hitherto been pursued. First, time English parliament should govern Ire- and for the benefit of the Irish, and for the advantage of the English them- 152 Old Ireland and Young Ireland. [August~~ 8elves; and this may he done hy granting to both alike, all and the same re~ ligi ous, political, and social rights. Second, the British landlords should abdish their (letestible scheme of land-tenures, and instea(I oftcnancy at How will sul)stitute icitincton icaw. can the ~ or any olner p opie not insane, be expected to exhaust their capital and labor on another man& land, and be at any moment ejected thence at the caprice of the owner, and without compensation or hope of redress V~ Here lies the secret of Irish indolence, which the English landlords create and then poiut to as a proof of national degradation. Out upon such hollow trickery and cant! Give the Irish but the same chance which the people of the United States enjoy, to retain the profit of their labor, and we would see the condition of Ireland change, as hy magic. It is the slander of false men, and base men to say, that Irishmen are born lower in the scale of industry and intelligence than other men. Be- hold them in our own happy country They fill our hotels; they crowd our quays; they swarm in our houses, they abound everywhere throughout the land; and are they riot industrious, temperate, fiugal,~ peaceable, sagacious and patriotic as that of any other of our foreign popu lation! nay, hardly less so than oirr own, who have never been subject to the brutifying debasement which for years these Irish emigrants have un~ dergone at home. Tories of Englandlook at the Irish in America under the influence of laws that are free and equal, and despair of duping the world any longer into the lying belief, that they are other than your brutal sway has made them. But if the English, aristocracy, putting their faith in bayonets, and braving the contempt of Christendom, will not grant Justice to Ireland, then Ireland must obtain it in their despiteand how? This is another vital question, and we will answer it, too, with facility and decision. On this ground have sprung up two rival schools amongst the political leaders of the Irish people, known under the different appellations of Old Ireland, and Young Ireland. The former founded, organised and inspired by Daniel OConnellthe patriot dead. The latter created, sustained, and led on by John Mitchelthe patriot entombed alive. The watchword of the former, was moraifnce; of the latter, ph.?,sicalforce; the end of both was the samethe Independence of Ireland. Now, let us follow for a moment the history and errors of each. The moral power, which OConnell sought, as the great means to his final purpose, he obtained by ability, industry aud (lexterity, that in political annals have never been sur passed. He wielded a moral power that no Irish leader ever before ac- q~iire(l. In corroboration we cite the evidence of one of his enemies, that able but unscrupulous mouth-piece of English Toryism, B/ackuoods M2iga- zine. Speaking of OConnells power, it declares that his is, indeed, a reign of terrorof moral terror if you will; but of a terror quite as effectual and more powvrful tka;t that of fhe gud/c/i e; a terror which pervades all classes of society; a terror which seeks not only to regulate political but private concerns, which causeseven the Bishops of his own faith who dare to oppose him without the means of support, to crouch under his denun ciations, and at his behest to violate tire (lictates of their own consciences in order to purchase immunity from political defeat. What testimony could be stronger! But we will add another quotation from a more elevated source: For nearly forty years, whatever party was in power, Mr. OConnell L xv~s stated he Daniel OC~onnell, in his pace in the House cf Commons, in 1816, That in the cointe of Tipperary no less than 7028 writs of ~jectment were issued in a sing/~ near, he the different County Courts, to which there were no lesa than 31,319 defendants.~ Can we wonder that,under such provocation, the miserahie people turned out to starve she. seek to die revenged hy eudeavorin~ no murder their landlords? 1848.] Old Ireland and Young Ireland. was the chosen monarch of the Irish. His word roused them to action or lulled them to peace. His missives, unsupported by a single tipsiaff, op- posed even by courts of law, and by the police, were in Ireland almost universally and instantly obeyed. Millions gathered at his bidding or dis- appeared at his nod or crowded on his path as he passed in triumphal procession throuah the south of Ireland. He had no armies at his hack. He had gain~d no victories. What, then, was the source of his power ? He spoke out, for the greater part of his life. the griefs of an oppressed people. He promised them redress in return for obedience to his devices. He made the Catholic Irish, by his organization, powerful and respectable. England had before treated them at once with cruelty and contempt ; Mr. OConnell, binding them into a coherent mass, gave them a conviction of their strength, and made them an object of (Iread to politicians. In all history there is no other demagogue, very few conquerors, and only a few monarchs, who reigned so long over the affections of a numerous people. The efficacy of the means he employedpeaceful agitationcannot be questioned when the results were so astounding. But to what use was put by this remarkable man the mighty power he controlled? Did he employ it f or patriotic or per- sonal objecs? This is the pivot on which turns the utility of his life; the standard by which we should form our opinion of his characterits sin- cerity or its weakness. Let us record to his eternal honor one noble ex- ercise of his influence, the act of Catholic emancipation. If he did no more, he lived not in vain. And alas! what more have we to perpetuate. During his long career succeeding this political triumph he wasted his whole energies in endeavoring to turn Tory ministers out of power in Eng- land, in order to put Whig ministers in. And what for ?to employ his friendship with the Whigs to obtain justice for Ireland, by reforming abuses and redressing grievances? Would that we could say so. But he went no further than to secure for his friends and followers the government patronage, and let slip this glorious chance, for national reform. Let us be just to the dead: de niortuis nil nisi bonum. It may be that he could not persuade the Whig aristocracy to grant justice, and wanted nerve, or decision to take the efficient means we shall point out directly to coerce thetn. He lived to see his power disputed, and its foundations destroyed. He died whilst thousands of his countrymen were perishing from a famine, which it must have poisoned his latest monnents to think that he might have perhaps prevented, by the stern and inflexible use of the power he pos- sessed over English legislation. The loss of the peoples confidence was the grave of OConnell, and the cradle of the Young Ireland party. OConnell employed moral means, and he obtained power. The means were then legitimate, and this was his merit. His fault was that he failed to employ this power for the real benefit of his country. The Young Ireland party propose physical means, and if they miscarry in securing the confidence of the people and the sympathy of foreign nations, then the means must be injudicious. Will this be the stumbling block over which they are destined to fall? Their experience so far has been melancholy in the extreme. Their genius is worthy Irelands brightest days; it does honor to the land of Curran, Qrattau, and Burke. Their sincerity and dis- interestedness, their patriotism and honesty, are all alike above doubt, or suspicion. Would that men of this heroic stamp wielded the power that OConnell knew how to win! But what has ensued? What success has crowned the Curtius-like devo- tion of Mitchel, the intrepid eloquence of Meagher, the sublime disinterested-. ness of OBrien? They have not thus far obtained the confidence of the Irish 154 Old Ireland and Young Ireland. [August, people, nor have they secured the sympathy of foreign nations. France has repelled them, and America looks on in apathy. Can it be questioned, for a moment, the deep and abidin interest of the United States for the misery and unhappiness of Ireland? Common humanity would dictate it, but a thousand ties of affection and regard command it. But in this age, more than any other, the understandings of men must he convinced before their passions are aroused. Re~ard the late conduct of the American press toxvards the people of Paris. Their cause was just in the sight of God, and in the presence of men; but the press of the United States stopped not to inquire into the history of their wrongs; they paused not to weigh in the balance the op- pressions of centuries, which were sought to be kept up by the National As- sembly, false to its mission. They could not but have seen that many of the highest rank; that large portions of the middle class; that many lion-hearted men of their own profession fought desperately in the ranks of the people; but shutting their eyes to the merit of the quarrel, they saw only that order was overthrown and the bloody arbitrament of the sword invoked, and with an unanimity unparalleled as it is striking, they condemned violence and proscribed anarchy. So far as this is the expression of the public opinion of this country it is important and note-worthy, but it remains to be seen what direction popular sympathies will take when the base trickery practised on the French people by faithless leaders shall be fully discovered. To return, however, to Ireland. The question of moral and physical force is a nice one, indeed, and like the relations of soul and body, it is hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. But his is an age of reason, of argument, and of conviction. That of force, coercion and violence is past away. The cause of this change is apparent, and it springs not from any revolution in the nature of mankind. Their passions are the same, but subservient now to their interests. The explanation simply is that the reign of commerce has superseded that of military, or feudal swaythat this is an epoch of trade, and not one of fighting. Wars may and will occur, but the sentiments of nations deepen against them every day, because their interests forbid con- fusion. The United States and England are the first commercial countries of the world, and whatever may be their private views or inclinations, they will be guided in a large degree by enlightened considerations of their in- terest. The United States will not favor, then, the employment of physical force in the case of Ireland until she is fully convinced that all other means are hopeless; and not then unless satisfied that the force proposed is adequate to the end. If the Irish people had the same hope of victory over tyranny without, and treason within, as the French people may indulge, the whole question would be altered, and physical force would then be the true argument. And beyond all doubt these are the sentiments of the Irish people themselves. Why did they allow John Mitchel to be seized in their very midst and transported beyond the seas? Was it cowardice? Why, the suspicion is absurd against a people that from time immemorial have for mere sport at Donnybrook Fair, broken each others heads on the liberal principle of When you see a pate, hit it? The charge is disgraceful against a people whose bones bleach on every battle-field of Europe and America. The Irish, cowards! Pshaw! the theme is un~vorthy us. No, it vas not lack of courage, but lack of confidence that allowed Mitchel to go to the hulks of Bermuda. Daniel OConnell but a few years since was arrested, tried and con- i~n ed to prison in Dublin; but he entreated, he commanded the Irish peo 1848.] Old Ireland and Young Ireland. 155 pie not to stir a finger or raise an arm. How wise, how politic, how hu- mane, for in a few weeks afterwards his sentence was reversed. The people of Ireland have derived this vast benefit from OConnells doctrines, that they have begun to doubt the efficacy of those savage brawls and conflicts which have made their history but one red page of blood. This is a proof of in- creasing civilization; and the courage to support the arrest of Mitchel has inspired us with a deeper hope in their future regeneration than any event or act of their entire history. That the Irish people were disappointed, ir- ritated, and distressed at OConnells trifling is, doubtless, true; but that they are not disposed to abandon the safe and easy path he taught them to tread is equally certain. Else why this noble firmness; this heroic en- durance, this touching submission to the tyranny of the English gov- ernment? They are fearfully tried; but shall they, unarmed and unaided, rush on to massacre and defeat? In former times they would have acted like madmenbut now, let us earnestly hope they will abide their time, and employ other means. What are they ? They are ample, efficient, certain, and are all contained, in one line unconsciously written by Charles Gavin Duffy, in his last address to the readers of the Na- tion from his cell in prison.* Speaking of the clubs, he says There is at present no law enabling the government to put down the clubs. * * * If they ask an act of Parliament it cannot pass under ten days or a fortnight; if there were six honest and able Irish members it would not pass this session. Here is an astounding declaration from a leader of Young Ireland. If there are not six honest and able Irish members in the House of Commons whose fault is it? Why has not Young Ireland thought of this and sent a cohort there? Gavin Duffy proclaims that only six of their friends would prevent an act of Parliament passing for a whole session. Now what need of fighting like senseless savages with iron pikes, when six honest patriots can impede, clog and stop the whole machinery of the English government. Nothing can be truer; nothing can be clearer. In the present divided counsels of English politics, with conservatives, whigs and radicals alternately voting each other down, six unanimous Irish votes would coerce the English government to any act of just legislation they chose to demand. If six could not, sixty could, and Ireland has one hundred members in the House of Commons. rFhese were the shrewd tactics of OConnell. Register, register, he cried to the people, and his band of followers, nick-named OConnells tail, enabled him to control the Eng- lish Parliament. Had he spurned the sops of the English ministry, Ireland would have been at this day an equal and sovereign member of the confederacy of states known as Great Britain and Ireland; or she would have been free and independent. Now, what is the course Young Ireland should take? What is the only path, we trust, the Irish 1)eople will follow? If Young Ireland rashly persists in their appeal to arms, inevitable defeat awaits them. But ifand heaven grant they may do soif they combine their talents, their energy, and their fearless honesty, in one effort, one object, and for one end, to send six honest and able Irish members to the Eng- lish House of Commonsthen Tory insolence will be checked; Tory power will be curbed; and Tory barbarity be exposed. Were John Mitchel, Mea- gher, OBrien, Duffy, Martin, and Devin Reilly holding seats in the Ilouse of Commons, bearding the British lion boldly in his den, as they would dare to do, what might we not hope? What else would we have a right to expect than Justice to Ireland ? For John Mitchel we have, no word of re- proach. If he has erred, nobly has he met his doom; cruelly has he expiated * See TVilbner and Smiths European Times of July 16th, by the Steamer Eseropa~ 156 Joirn Mztcltel. [August, it; grandly will he vindicate it. It is his glory to have fallen first for the cause he advocated ; it is his countrys fortune that he still sorvivesto aid her. lbs dungeon is a prouder lot than Victorias throne, for it is irradiated by the sympathy of nationsit is consecrated by the respect of his fellow-men. England has (Iisgraced herself by this act of barbarity she has coniprom- ised herself by this act of folly. If it were necessary in her eyes to condenrn him ; it would have been magnanirnoti s, and politic to pardon him. The patriot she has now raised to the rank of a martyr, and John Mitchel may yet become the leader and saviour of his country. Genius and honesty none will deny him, and experience will come from his very misfortune. Sweet are the uses of adversity. We have no fears that John Mitchel will linger through fourteen years of captivity in the hulks of Bermud~i. If no other means of deliverance offer, the votes of six honest and able Irish members in the House of Coinmons can procure his release. And when he is fiee again we will expect riiuch of him. It will be his crime if, through rashness, his great services are again lost to his countryit will be his fault if; thereafter, his country sufferssi quid detrimenti resjpublica capiat. JQHN MITdHEL was born in the city of Londonderry in the year 1815; he is conse- quently now in his 32d year. His father was a Presbyterian minister in connection with the General Assembly, as the ruling body of the Presbyterian church in Ireland was then called; which position he filled first at Diengiven, in his native county of Derry, af- terwards in Londonderry, and finally in Newry, where he died in the year 1840. During his residei.tce it Newry, he, with a number of the ministers of the General Assembly, separated from that body and formed the Remonstrant Synod of Ulster, who held those doctrines usually termed Unitarian. John Mitchel is the oldest of a surviving family of six. His mother, whose maiden name was Mary Haslett, daughter of a mer- chant of Londonderry, is still living. When at school in Londonderry, and afterwards in Newry, John Mitchel displayed a considerable early talent; but in his college course, (he graduated at Trinity College, Dub- lin,) there was nothing remarkable. From his childhood, he showed a wonderful thirst for knowledge, and rend books of all kinds that fell in his way, with the utmost avidity. His readin~, however, was of nit irregular and excursive character, and governed rather by the literary ardor that finds delight in almost every book, than by an ambition to be- come perfect in any particular branch of science. About the time that he had finished his college studies, and when he had arrived at the age of twenty years, he becatne acquainted with Miss Verner, dau~~hter of Captain James Verner,~ then residing in Newry, and who was then in her ei~hteenth year. He married her a few months after. His father having a large family and with limited means, he was obliced at this time to bind himself to Mr. John Quinn, an attorney at Newry. At tho end of the term, he entered into partnership with Mr. Frazer, another attorney of Newry, and agreed to conduct a branch of his business at Baubridge, ten miles from that town. He continued in this position for six years, until he forsook his profession to commetice a political career in 1845. Though successful in his profession, which rendered him com- pletely independent, he, from the first, entertained an extreme dislike to it, atid gladly seized the opportunity of devoting himself to pursuits better suited to a literary taste. During the frequent visits to Dublin, which his business required, he became acquainted with Thomas Davis, and his political friends of the National party. As he had always been an ardent Nationalist, this acquaintance, particularly with Davis, speedily ripened into the closest intimacy. In the early part of the year 184.5, it was proposed by a nutn- her of political friends, chiefly young men, of whom Thomas Davis was the soul atid centre, who have since become kimown as the Youn~ Ireland Parts, to produce a school of cheap national literature for Ireland. The Library of Ireland, was the re- sult of this plan. It consisted of twenty volumes, each volume by a different baud, and was intended to be instrumental in reviviun the decaying genius of Irish history, litera- ture, art and science. To this library John Mitchel contributed one volume, choositig for his subject The Life and Times of Hugh ONeill, the greatest Irish chieftain of the six- teenth century. After the appearance of this work, he became pretty well known as a writer; and, on the death of Thomas Davis. in the latter part of the year 1845, he was chosen to fill his place as Editor of the Natioti newspaper. It was about this time also * This cateatn James Verner, (now dead,) was brother of time Sir Within Veroer, wimo, a short tins since, catted itme guveramemit to acceaut for some tritliag civilities shown to Mitchel on him way train Dub- lbs to Spike. 1348.f John Mitchel. 1 7 that he became a member of the Committee of the Repeal Association lbnnded by OConnell. He soon discovered the hollowi~~ss and inefficiency of this famoes engine of agitation, and determined, as far as was in his pwer, that it should really be made avai1a~ ble fbr effecting the objects which it prof~ssed to seek, and that the imincose popular strength which it had unquestioiiahly acquired, shotald not any longer he misdirected and throwii away. Accordingly when, in lone, 1846, it became necessary hy those whose interest it was to keep the delusion going, to eject froan their counsels, some whose sincerity and determination made them trouhlesome, he was one of those, and perhaps the most obnoxious of them all, who were ohlwed to withdraw from the old association. He was afterwaids very active in forruina the Irish Confederation, a body hich has since re- ceived a steady and gradnal increase of strength, and which held the foremost rank in the natiomial party, until its late adjounament, in order to form a union with the other sections. lip to the summer of 1847, Joim Ylitchel had entertained the h01)e, that the Irish gentry might, by some means, he induced to join with the Ileople in a demand for Irish rights. This hope was strengthened by the assembly in that year, of a body naming them- selves The Irish Council, composed princi ~ally of the landlord class, who came together ostensibly for the purpose of demanding the redress of certain Irish griev~ ances from the Imperial Parliament, and whose sentiments, as expressed by many individnals among them, appeared to verge upon a desire lbr national independ- ence. His hopes, howevei, were not founded UI)Ofl the effect of these demands aii larliameiit, but in the helief that events might induce this council to resolve itself into a National Convention, which woulmi take the government of he country into its own bands, as its natural right. Iii this hope he joined the society at once, and in it worked zealously, to promluce a substantial union Imetweemi the landlord amid the tenant classes, hy inducing the former, whom lie then believed siimcere iii their desires to remove the abjases of Irelands political and social system, to concede to the temiamit a full ackmmowledgiiaent of that right nansed in Irelamid Tenant Right, that is to say, the right of the temiant to ~he increase in the value of Isis form, caused by the outlay thereon of his owis capital and ~mdustry. The coldimess and oppositiomi with which this proposal was met convimiced him of the imisimicerity with which most of tlmose gemitlemems hail assunmed an appearamice of aational spirit. He at once warned tIme people that the lamidlords had bmokeim faith with themmi that they should hiatt am faith in their professions, for their oimly motive was a wish to wring from the leam s of the Emiglish g(mvermamemit such comicessions to their owim class as should emmable themn to raise their rack-rents with greater security amid ease. It is remark- able that this smaspicion was perfectly justified by lie eveimt; witness the passima shortly after of the Coercion Act, and the immerliate lull thereupon, iii time lamidlord agitation. From that hour be saw the idleness of attempting a settlament of tIme (lifferences between landlord amid temmant, umitil the people should be able to make their own terms. This con- victiomi he expressed as fully amid forcibly as he usia ht, in the Nation maewspaper, umitil the proprietor of that journal disseistimig from some of his views, lie was compelled to separate himself from it. Iii Fcbruary,48, he established the Usmited Irishman, where his opinions, though un- hamiged. were more fully developed thami they had heems previously. In it he argued the if the of a cousplete and radical chamm~ e isa the relatioms of the people to the soil; which, lamadlords coistimmued obdurate, would ~ommsist in an titter aliemmation of their so-called riahts iii the Imimad, to be transferred in absolute ownership to the occupier. At the same time, ahthsough forms of government were isever a foremost consideration with him, he distimmctly advmmcated the establishimemit of Ireland as an Immmlepeimdemmt Republic. These opimmions gained rapidly amcumag the people, and iii the short space of three mouths this jour- nal, whmich hie comidmicted with the assistance of Messrs. Reilly amid Martin, who held opimmioiss similar t(i his owmi, imad beconme a source of considerable almarm to the govermimeist, as may lie seen by tIme umipamalleled exertiomis they made, amid the imifamimus ameans to which they had recourse, in order to put a stop to its teachimigs amid their eflects. The bold style which always characterized his writimmgs was imatumal to him, but lie further comasidemed it necessary, in (irder to wean his readems from that morbid, and, as it were, superstitious deforemmee to a semhlasmce of law, which is generally inmluced by a bug term of subjection, amid which it wanted but a bold exaumple to dispeh. He has left behmimud him a wife amid five chiildremi, the oldest oh whom is in his twelfth year. His nearest personal anml political friemids have resuscitated his joninal, under the imame of the Irish Felon, amid with the determimmatiosm of carryimig nut at all hi ards, the work which he has left Un- finished. 158 The Literati of New-York. [August, TILE LITERATI OF NEW-YORK. S. ANNA LEWIS. Tun poetical reputation of Mrs. Lewis has been rapidly acquired, but is not the less thoroughly deserved. Within a few years past she has pub- lished much and written more; but although what she has accomplished suffices to give her a very decided preeminence, there can be no doubt in the minds of those who know her best, that her most important triumphs lie in the Faturefor with taste, scholarship, a strong bias towards Letters, and that pardonable ambition which always accompanies true genius, she is still very young, and has many years of active exertion in prospect. Previous to 1840 1~1rs. Lewis had published only a few spirited prose stories in Southwicks Family Magazine, with some fugitive poems in different papers arid periodicals; but the first Poem from her pen which especially attracted public attention, was her Ruins of Palenque, foun- ded on a passage in Stephenss Travels in Central America. This was originally published in The New-World, and was widely copied and circulated, at the time of its issue. In 1844, the Appletons published, at New-York, ber Records of the Heart, a large edition of which was soon exhausted. Tly~ poems included in the Records~ are chiefly compositions of length, as sell as of high merit. The four opening pieces are Florence, Ze- nel, (pronounced Thanail,). Melpomene, and Laone. These all bear the peculiar impress of their authors mind, and are passionate, glow- ing, and classical in ~vord and spirit. It would give us great pleasure to quote a passage or two from each of these poemsbut we cannot, without ex- ceeding our limits :nor indeed could any mere extract convey an idea of the chief merit which distinguishes these worksthe merit of a well-ar- ranged and well-balanced whole. Among the minor poems of The Rec- ords are several of exquisite pathos, subservient to a very forcible yet very refined and delicate fancyor more properly imagination. We must be permitted to exemplify our meaning by the citation of The Forsaken a poem, which, in its peculiar way, is not excelled, if equalled, by any composition, of similar length, which has ever been written by an American There is about it a dreamya voluptuous melancholya simple, passionate and Sensuous expression of sorrow which is perfectly irresistible: THE FGRSAKEN~ It bath been said for all who die There is a tear; Some pining, hleeding heart to sigh Oer every bier But in that hour of pain and dread Who will draw near Around my humble couch, and shed One farewell tear? Who watch lifes last departing ray In deep despair, And soothe my spirit on its way With holy prayer? What mourner round my bier will come In weeds of wo, And follow me to my long home Solemn and slow?

158 The Literati of New-York. [August, TILE LITERATI OF NEW-YORK. S. ANNA LEWIS. Tun poetical reputation of Mrs. Lewis has been rapidly acquired, but is not the less thoroughly deserved. Within a few years past she has pub- lished much and written more; but although what she has accomplished suffices to give her a very decided preeminence, there can be no doubt in the minds of those who know her best, that her most important triumphs lie in the Faturefor with taste, scholarship, a strong bias towards Letters, and that pardonable ambition which always accompanies true genius, she is still very young, and has many years of active exertion in prospect. Previous to 1840 1~1rs. Lewis had published only a few spirited prose stories in Southwicks Family Magazine, with some fugitive poems in different papers arid periodicals; but the first Poem from her pen which especially attracted public attention, was her Ruins of Palenque, foun- ded on a passage in Stephenss Travels in Central America. This was originally published in The New-World, and was widely copied and circulated, at the time of its issue. In 1844, the Appletons published, at New-York, ber Records of the Heart, a large edition of which was soon exhausted. Tly~ poems included in the Records~ are chiefly compositions of length, as sell as of high merit. The four opening pieces are Florence, Ze- nel, (pronounced Thanail,). Melpomene, and Laone. These all bear the peculiar impress of their authors mind, and are passionate, glow- ing, and classical in ~vord and spirit. It would give us great pleasure to quote a passage or two from each of these poemsbut we cannot, without ex- ceeding our limits :nor indeed could any mere extract convey an idea of the chief merit which distinguishes these worksthe merit of a well-ar- ranged and well-balanced whole. Among the minor poems of The Rec- ords are several of exquisite pathos, subservient to a very forcible yet very refined and delicate fancyor more properly imagination. We must be permitted to exemplify our meaning by the citation of The Forsaken a poem, which, in its peculiar way, is not excelled, if equalled, by any composition, of similar length, which has ever been written by an American There is about it a dreamya voluptuous melancholya simple, passionate and Sensuous expression of sorrow which is perfectly irresistible: THE FGRSAKEN~ It bath been said for all who die There is a tear; Some pining, hleeding heart to sigh Oer every bier But in that hour of pain and dread Who will draw near Around my humble couch, and shed One farewell tear? Who watch lifes last departing ray In deep despair, And soothe my spirit on its way With holy prayer? What mourner round my bier will come In weeds of wo, And follow me to my long home Solemn and slow? 1848.] The Literati of New-York. 159 When lying on my clayey bed,. In icy sleep, Who there by pure affection led Will cone and weep By the pale moon implant the rose Upon my breast, And bid it cheer my dark repose, My lowly rest? Could I but know when I am sleepi g Low in the ground, One faithful heart would there be kee~i g Watch all night round, As if some gem lay shrieed beneath That sods cold gloom, Twould mitigate the pangs of Death, And li5ht the tomb. Yes, in that hour if I could feel Prom halls of glee And Beautys presence ONE would steal in secrecy, And come and sit and weep by m.e in nights deep noon Oh! Iwould ask of Memory No other boon. But ah! a lonelier fate is mine A deeper wo: From all I love in Youths sweet time I soon must go Draw round me my cold robes of white In a dark spot To sleep through Deaths long, dreamless night, Lone and forgot. The great charm of this truly beautiful poem is the exquisite and unaf- fected naturalness of its thought. it is on this account that the sternest heart will he moved by it, even to tears. In 1846, she published in the Democratic Review The Broken Heart, a poem in three Cantos; and since this period she has given to the world a number of minor and less elaborate compositions, principally in the American and Democratic Reviews. The Broken Heart, a Tale of Hispaniola, is especially characteristic of its authorfervid, yet ornate and gracefully controlled. It is a poem of intense and even Byronic paasion. We quote a passage of singular beauty: Alas! what awe have se ichres To hearts that have been dead for years? Dead unto all external thtngs Dead onto Hopes sweet offerings, While with its lfty pinions furled The Spiritfloats in neither world. She gains at len0th the holy fane, Where Death and solemn Silence reign Hurries along the shadowy aisles Up to the altar where blest tapers Burn dimly and the Virgin smiles Midst rising do ds of incense vapors There kneels by the Confession Chair Where waits the Friar with fervent prayer To soothe the children of Despair. Her hands are claspedher eyes upraised Meekbeautifulthough coldly glazed And her pale cheeks are paling faster. From under her simple hat of straw Over her neck her tresses flose Like threads of jet oer alabaster. 1f~O The Literati of New- York. [August, She has now in the press the Child of the Sea and Other Poems ; and U~0fl the poem which gives the title to this volume, her poetical reput ation ~vill, perhaps, ultimately dependat least in great inesure. The child of the Sea is emphatically a romantic poem. Avoiding equally the vulgarity of the mere matterof-fact ~vorldlirg, and the dreamy, yet hard and cold abstractions of the Transcendeutalists and Pro gress-~1()i~gers, Mrs. Lewis has, in this fine work ,given the world anear- nest, and perhaps but an earnest of her powers. Its rulin trait is enthusi- astic abandonmuch in t~ie manner of Maria del Occidente. She seems to have aimed at reproducing her conceptions in all the freshness and unpinned vigor with which they arose in her mindthat is to say, as reQards the thoughts themselvesfor the language in which they are em- bodied is skilfully and artistically l)erfected. The ve~siflcation is, indeed, quite eLiborately managed. ]3nt the poem ~vill be published early in the fall. and will then speak, forcibly, for itself. We take the liberty, however, of making two or three short extracts, merely by way of illustrating our remarks Bitt he escaped, despite their frantic cries, And etThrts to re~aii the lovely prize. What happened titeticeor to what shores they flew Upon what seas they sailed, I never knew I only know, that of this Union wild, 1 was the Pledgean Jll-Star~ed, Ocean-Child Again Mv Mitd by Grief was ripened ere its time, And Knowledge came sj)otit teous as a Chime, That flows into the ~nul, unbid, nisuight Oi earth, and air, and Heaven, I & d my thought On Oceans teachingsEtnas lava tea:s Rnins and Wrecksand nameless Sepotchres. And again Sleep chains the earth the hright stars glide on high Filli~ wit It one etfulgetit staile the sky Ad all is hushed, so still, so silent there, That ote might hear an atigel wing the air. Atd where is Zamen? are his slumbers sweet, Calm, renovating, in this fair retreat ? Have Beantys smile, and tranquilizing light, Mite, moaning Melancholy, put to flight And changed his hosotn from a marky hell, To at abode where Love an(1 Peace tnay dwell? Ali, no it oily shows the Rni there, Like sunshine ~dlitig on a sepolebre There is a resorrection of he Heart, Whet from 05 vivif yin ashes start Its cons~crated DeadHope, Love, Joy, Dole, Giet4aden, circutnambiate the soul An hour when Times din veil aside is cast, And ~ve relieve tile silent-solemn Past. Probably no American poetess has a more thoroughly educated mind or is more conversant ~vith standard Enrlih and American Literature. iler classical acquiretnents have made her fmvorably known its circles where commendation, on such points, is with diffleulty extorted ; and her transla- tion of the storm-scetie from the Fit-st Book of the Eneid has been criti- cally pronotinced the best yet made of that passage into English verse. ha person, she is about th~ medium height of ~voman, or perhaps rather above itof a dignified and reserved demeataoura finely fortoed figure chesnut hair, cut litag naturally, and large, dark hazle eyes. The beauti:ul portrait, by Elliot, lately exhibited, is by no means too flattering a likeness, J1848.] Tke Roast Partridge. 161 TilE ROAST PARTRIDGE. FROM THE FRENCH OF MARIE AYCARD. (CONCLUDED.) REGNAIJLD did not wait to be asked a second time; he took the partridge, daintily, upon the end of his fork, carved it with gteat dexterity, and re- placing the carcase upon the dish, he reserved the four members, which he moistened with a suitable quantity of sauce, and then transported to his plate the tempting slice of toast. It is perfect ! he said, as he stoutly assailed one of the wings. Se- riously, papa Vachelier, with my hand upon my conscience, your break- fasts are better than those I get at the inns; you may believe me, upon my honor.~~ M. Vachelier swallowed a cup of tea, closing his eyes and opening his nostrils like a man who listens with satisfaction to the praises hestowed upon his table, and who at the same time inhales the odor of a dish of which he dares not partake. Ah ! cried Regnauld, suddenly, what a villainous taste! the detest- able toast! This sauce is shocking, papa Vachelier; it is not worth a There, now ! said Justine, who had entered the dining-room, the partridge is not done; I was sure of it; it was m adajne who took it from the spit. Another individual now entered, or, rather, rushed into the apartment. It was Madame Vachelier, pale, with haggard eyes, distorted features, pant- ing respiration; she darted towards the seat occupied by Jules Regnauld, and seizing his plate, cast it violently upon the floor. How, she cried, in a voice of terror, but which to those present seemed agitated by anger what are you doing, unhappy man ? Doing! Why, you see; I am eating my breakfast! I am eating the vilest partridgeno, the vilest toast. You must change your baker, bour- geozse. And why did you not obey me, sir? why did you leave me when I had need of your assistance? when the business of the house demanded your presence ?And you, sir, added Madame Vachelier, turning to her hus- band, what means this? How is it that She durst not finish the sentence. Come, come, madame, said Vachelier, who comprehended nothing of what was passing, do you mean to find fault with my taking tea? Madame Vachelier was about to reply, but, at this moment, Jules Reg- nauld fell back upon his chair; his Jimbs were convulsed, his features vio- lently distorted. Give me something to drink, Titine ! he said, something to drink! water, if you pleasewater ! Madame Vachelier wrung her hands in despair; she took the travelling clerk in her arms, who had fallen from his chair to the floor; and, repuls- ing Justine, who approached, with her face bathed in tears, she cried Run, Justine, run for Doctor Lafrenais! run, or this poor fellow will die in my arms ! Justine made but one leap from the Rue des Lombards to the Rue $hint- vOL. XXIii.No. Cxxii. 5

J1848.] Tke Roast Partridge. 161 TilE ROAST PARTRIDGE. FROM THE FRENCH OF MARIE AYCARD. (CONCLUDED.) REGNAIJLD did not wait to be asked a second time; he took the partridge, daintily, upon the end of his fork, carved it with gteat dexterity, and re- placing the carcase upon the dish, he reserved the four members, which he moistened with a suitable quantity of sauce, and then transported to his plate the tempting slice of toast. It is perfect ! he said, as he stoutly assailed one of the wings. Se- riously, papa Vachelier, with my hand upon my conscience, your break- fasts are better than those I get at the inns; you may believe me, upon my honor.~~ M. Vachelier swallowed a cup of tea, closing his eyes and opening his nostrils like a man who listens with satisfaction to the praises hestowed upon his table, and who at the same time inhales the odor of a dish of which he dares not partake. Ah ! cried Regnauld, suddenly, what a villainous taste! the detest- able toast! This sauce is shocking, papa Vachelier; it is not worth a There, now ! said Justine, who had entered the dining-room, the partridge is not done; I was sure of it; it was m adajne who took it from the spit. Another individual now entered, or, rather, rushed into the apartment. It was Madame Vachelier, pale, with haggard eyes, distorted features, pant- ing respiration; she darted towards the seat occupied by Jules Regnauld, and seizing his plate, cast it violently upon the floor. How, she cried, in a voice of terror, but which to those present seemed agitated by anger what are you doing, unhappy man ? Doing! Why, you see; I am eating my breakfast! I am eating the vilest partridgeno, the vilest toast. You must change your baker, bour- geozse. And why did you not obey me, sir? why did you leave me when I had need of your assistance? when the business of the house demanded your presence ?And you, sir, added Madame Vachelier, turning to her hus- band, what means this? How is it that She durst not finish the sentence. Come, come, madame, said Vachelier, who comprehended nothing of what was passing, do you mean to find fault with my taking tea? Madame Vachelier was about to reply, but, at this moment, Jules Reg- nauld fell back upon his chair; his Jimbs were convulsed, his features vio- lently distorted. Give me something to drink, Titine ! he said, something to drink! water, if you pleasewater ! Madame Vachelier wrung her hands in despair; she took the travelling clerk in her arms, who had fallen from his chair to the floor; and, repuls- ing Justine, who approached, with her face bathed in tears, she cried Run, Justine, run for Doctor Lafrenais! run, or this poor fellow will die in my arms ! Justine made but one leap from the Rue des Lombards to the Rue $hint- vOL. XXIii.No. Cxxii. 5 [August, 162 The Roast Partridge. Jliartin, where she had the good fortune to find the Doctor, who was terri~. fled at the young girls paleness. What is the matter, Justine ? inquired the Doctor; has any acci~~ dent happened? Is Madame Vachelier ill ? Ah, yes !No, it is not madame, said Justine, weeping, it is M. Jules, men dieu! it is M. Jules. The Doctor found the patient in his bed, suffering from all the painful symptoms which result from poisoning: an insatiable thirst, cramps, icy coldness of the extremities, convulsions, general prostration, contraction of the features, and delirium. Vachelier stood on one side of the bed, his wife on the other. Regnauld has been poisoned, said the Doctor. Yes, replied Madame Vachelier, by verdigris. True, said Lafrenais, subcarbonate of copper. There are but two possible means of curing a man who has been poi.. soned; it is necessary either to neutralize the deleterious action of the poison, or to force the stomach to reject it. To produce the former of these effects, the Doctor resorted to whites of egg and milk; to produce vomiting, he administered warm water in large doses. When the most alarming symptoms were removed, and Lafrenais thought himself nearly sure of saving the travelling clerk, he said Well, this will teach you to keep your copper pans in order. Copper pans I cried Justine, who applied this reproach to herself~ why, M. Jules has eaten nothing that has been in a copper jan. He has eaten roast partridge. Ah, ha ! said the Doctor, while all present gazed upon him in silence. We must now leave Ni. Jules, resumed the Doctor. All this has fatigued him. He needs repose. Lafrenais gave M. Vachelier to understand that he was threatened with an attack of indigestion ; that the scene which he had just witnessed had affected him in a dangerous manner, and that he would do well to pass an hour or two upon his divan. Madame Vachelier led the Doctor into her chamber, and said, taking him by the hand Can you save him, Doctor? can you save him ? Parbieu! yes, my dear Marie, replied the Doctor, clasping the hands of his inamorata. I was called in time, I shall save him.But they did not stint the dose. And how did you know that it was subcarbonate of copper ? Verdigris ? Yes, verdigris. I tasted the partridge, said Madame Vachelier, and I fancied that it had a very coppery taste ;the taste, Doctor, reminded me of the smell of rusted copper.~, Thats it! thats the very thing ! said the Doctor. And you have tasted itimprudent creature! You must take flaxseed tea. But since some one has been poisoned, some one, man or woman, must be the poi- soner. Do you not think, Doctor, said Madame Vachelier, turning pale, do you not think that an accident An accident ?Everything is possible, Mariehut I do not believe in an accident. XV hat kind of a creature is this little Justine ~A very pretty girl, I knowbut in other respects These words engendered a series of new ideas in Mad~me Vacheliers brain. She found, in truth, for the first time, that Mademoiselle Justine was, really, a very pretty gir!. She now remembered, as she fancied, that 1848.] The Roast Partridge. 163 Jules Regnauld often looked at her, in a certain manner, and that she al- ways looked at Jules Regnauld, in a certain manner. Besides, it was ne- cessary to cut short all investigationall reciprocal accusation. Why not sacrifice Justine? It was so easy. Doctor, she said, I persist in my opinion; I attribute it to an acci- dentbut whether it has occurred from chance, oror crime, that which has happened in my house is too serious an affair, not to induce me to dis- miss Justine. I should prefer, said the Doctor, those investigationsthose expla.- nations which seem natural in such a case; for really it is not just that Pardon me, Doctor, said Madame Vachelier, interrupting him; I accuse no one; I attribute it to negligence; but negligence must be pun- ished. What would become of me, if it should occur again ~ Justines dismissal was decided upon. A fter the Doctor had left the house, Madame Vachelier sent for the young girl, informed her of her pur- pose, and after having paid her her wages, ordered her to be gone, and not to sleep another night in the house. The druggists wife expected to hear cries and exclamations; she thought, at least, that Mademoiselle Justine would refer to the event which had just set the house in commotion; that she would endeavor to justify herself, to explain what had passed, or to de- mand an explanation. Jhe Doctor had spoken of poisoning; to dismiss Mademoiselle Justine, on the very day, was to accuse her, and still the young girl did not utter a word; she did not make the slightest observa- tion; she expressed neither anger or regret. Seated in Madame Vache- hers shop, she merely looked carefully to the settlement of her wages, took the longest time possible in counting the money that was given her, and when all was endedwhen all accounts were settled, she rose modestly, cast a piercing glance upon the druggists wife, and left the house. When she was gone, Madame Vachelier drew a long breath; she had suffered a terrible shock, but all was going wellall was dying away of itself. The accident could easily be attributed to the girl, who had just been dismissed, and Jules Regnauld was out of danger; in a few days his health would be entirely restored. Madame Vachelier, now at liberty, ascended to the chamber of Jules Regnauld. She was eager to see him; to assure herself with her own eyes of his conditionto tell him how much she had suffered from this melan- choly event. Trembling, her heart filled with a thousand conflicting eno- tions, she paused, for a moment, at the door of the travelling clerks apart- ment; she hesitatedshe listened; at last she enteredthe chamber was deserted, the bed was emptyJules Regnauld was no longer there. We will not describe Madame Vacheliers anger and despair, when, after a careful examination, a minute search, she was convinced that Jules Reg- nauld was no longer in the house. The travelling clerks clothes, his hat, his boots, were nowhere to be found. lie had evidently found strength enough to rise, to dress himself, and to fly. His departure was not con- nected in her mind with Mademoiselle Justines passive obedience; Mad- ame Vachelier thought merely that Jules Regiiaulds troubled imagination had led him to fear that, in a house where partridges were poisoned, po- tions, also, might be dangerous. Nay, perhaps the travelling clerk, who must have been ignorant of Mademoiselle Justines discharge, distrusted the young girl. This thought somewhat reassured her. On the very day when M. Vachelier, instead of eating of the roast par- tridge, which was designed for him, had breakfasted on tea, the future mayor of his arrondissement did not dine at home. Not that he entertained [August, 164 The Roast Partridge. the slightest suspicion, but he had been invited by M. Baudelot, his father- in-law, and he was vexed at Mademoiselle Justines dismissal. Heaven alone knows what kind of a dinner we shall have, at home, to-day, he said to himself. if Baudelot had not invited me, I should have gone to the Palais-Royal, and dropped in at Verys. But Baudelot was to have an exquisite dinner; the rarest fish, the finest game was spread u~on his table. He had, for a week past, reserved for this gastronomic solemnity, a pdt~ of becaficos, prepared with olives, after the receipt of the Jesuit Fabe, who flourished some sixty years ago, and who, with the merit of being a great theologian and a learned physician, combined the most remarkable culinary talents. Such another pdt~ could not be found, even upon the table of the king of France. The becafico, says Brillat-Savarin, has an exquisite aroma, a slight, mild bitterness, which fills the mouth with beatitude. Vachelier suffered himself to be seduced by these enchanting savors. He had a stomach like a chicken, and he dined like a Cossack. To complete his misfortune, the weather was damp and cold, M. Baudelots saloon well warmed, and al.. though it was not far from the Rue Grenetat, in which the father-in-law dwelt, to the Rue des Lombards, in which the son-in-law lived, yet in walk- ing this distance Ni. Vachelier caught a cold, which ~ettled upon his lungs. Doctor Lafrenais was sent for in the night. My dear Marie, he said to Madame Vachelier, after he had examined his patient, we have here a troublesome complication of diseases; in- flammation of the lungs and indigestion; I doubt if the subcarbonate of copper is worse than this. And, in truth, notwithstanding all the Doctors cares, Vachelier, who had escaped his wifes roast partridge, did not (by the help of the inflammation of the lungs) escape his father-in-laws becaficos; he died regretting the peerage which awaited him, and the good dinners which he would not have failed to eat, if he had lived to the ordinary term of human existence. Madame Vachelier was now a widow, and Doctor Lafrenais love, lawful. The latter had never ceased to cultivate Madame l3audelots friendship, and had preserved great influence over her; his practice had increased, his fortune was augmenting every day; some fortunate cures, some servi- ces rendered in the hospitals, had obtained for him the cross of honor. He was still hump-backed, but it was a very respectable match; the Baudelot family could not desire a better. Madame Baudelot gave an attentive ear, therefore, to the Doctors cautious insinuations. It would have defied the most skilful physicians in the world to save M. Vachelier, said Lafrenais. Esculapius himself could not have suc- ceeded, although, to speak frankly, I do not regret itneither do I think, Madame Baudelot, that your daughter regrets it much. My daughter is a good woman, said Madame Baudelot. That is the very reason why 1 wish to marry her, madam. I ought to have been her first husband; with Gods will, I will be her second. What do you think of it, my dear Madame Baudelot ? We must let her year of mourning pass over, replied the prudent Madame Baudelot. I will take my daughter home; I will persuade her to sell her stock of drugs, and all will go well, my dear Doctor. While these little arrangements occurred in the Rue Grenetat, the widow did not remain idle in the Rue des J~ombards. She lost no time in mourn- ing for her husband; her sole aim was to find Jules Regnauld again. For 1848.] Tile Roast Partridge. 165 this purpose, she employed the services both of friends and enemiesher father, her mother, the Doctor himself. Regnauld, she said, knew all the secrets of her affairs; she had need of Regnauld, to sell, to buy, to pay; what could a poor, helpless, and desolate widow do without him? She had but one misfortune to fear, ~ hich would complete her despair; this was, to hear that Regnauld had fallen a victim to the subcarbonate of copper. Fear nothing, the Doctor would say, when she expressed her anxiety; your Jules Regnauld is a sturdy fellow; besides, I have acted with promptitude and vigor; the gentleman is, at this moment, upon his legs, I will answer for it. Two mouths were passed in hoping, waiting, and in snubbing the poor Doctor, who in vain exerted all his wit and all his amiability to please the young widow. Madame Vachelier would neither leave her house, nor sell her stock of drugs. They are for him, she said to herself; he will return, he must re- turn; the poor fellow is of course ignorant that Justine is no longer here, and that M. Vachelieris dead; perhaps he left the house because he dis- trusted the skill of M. Lafrenais. As Madame Vachelier had said, Jules Regnauld must sooner or later re- turn. One day a Jiacre stopped before the drug shop, and ~vho should alight from it but the travelling clerk He was very pale, his face was greatly emaciated, he looked like a man who had just recovered from a fit of illness; and, indeed, Jules Regnauld had been seriously ill. But he still Preserved his good-natured air, his lips smiled, and his joyous glances announced a contentment of mind, from which Madame Vachelier drew a good omen. Dressed in a blue coat, which was buttoned to his chin, and which revealed the extremity of a white vest, his feet cased in polished pumps, his hands covered with yellow gloves, perfectly new, Jules Reg- nauld advanced straight towards Madame Vachelier. Ah, here you are at last ! cried the widow; come, my friend, I need your assistance; I must tell you all my secrets. All, bourgeoise ? said Jules Regnauld, with that air of good humor which never forsook him. Yes, all. In the first place, you shall never again leave this shop. Excuse me, I have had enough of your cookery; enough, for a while, of roast partridges. Banish these sad remembrances, said Madame Vachelier, have you no longer a wish to set up for yourself? To set up for myself, and to retire from business, bourgeoise; since I ate that accursed partridge I need country air. And did you not tell me, said Madame Vachelier, that the women would make your fortu~ie, and render you wealthy ? Just so, bourgeoise, just so. You did not think you spoke so truly, my friend. On the contrary, ~~OUrgeoise, I knew what I said. Ah! you divined my feelings, then. Well, well, I suspected it; and, for that reason, I could not understand why you left the house so suddenly. It was on account of the cookery, bourgeoise; it was on account of the partridge. That was a misfortune which will never happen again, said Madame Vachelier. Justine is no longer here. I know it, bourgeoise. And I hope, continued Madame Vachelier, tht~t you will not accuse me of what has happened. It was your fault, my friend; why did you leave me? If you had remained with mewe had business to attend to 166 Tke Roast Partridge. [August True, true, bourgeoise, replied Regnauld, laughing, the partridge was not meant for me. Well, said Madame Vachelier, I do not accuse Justine. Nor I either, most certainly. She is gone, and poor Vachelier is dead. Listen, my friend, it was my father who killed him, by stuffing him with pats of he aficos. He died of indigestion and inflammation of the lungs, which he caught, after leav- ing table, in coming home from the Rue Grenetat. Doctor Lafrenais at- tended him. If I were to say that I regretted him, I should tell an tin- truth. I was not happy with himthere now, frankly; he did well to die for you, at least For me ! cried Regnauld. Ab, you well know it, little hypocrite! I will make your fortune, and you count upon it; you told me so yourselfhere in this shopthe eve- ning befbre the day I told you so, bourgeoise. Well, continued Madame Vachelier, I could do much for you then, but now, I can do still more. Come, come, bourgeaise, I do not understand you, replied Regnauld, what the dl can you do for me? My affair is done, and well donethe farce is played, the piece is ended e, d, ed, ended. A woman has made my fortune; I have fifteen thousand livres incomeI am married. Married ! cried the widow Vachelier, in a tone of despair. Yes, and it is to you that I owe my happiness; it was you who made me acquainted with my wife. Your wife ! exclaimed Madame Vachelier, wildly; and who is your wife, then ? Why, Titinelittle Titine; come, come, hourgeoise, said Regnauld, clasping Madame Vacheliers waist with both hands, you knew that we loved each other, I am sure. Women always see things of this sort. In the first place, everybody in the house perceived itGerard, the domestic, that poor M. Vachelier, a most excellent man, whom I shall always regret, and even the porter. The porter has not mentioned it to you ?it was very discreet for a Swiss. While he spoke thus, Madame Vacheliers eyes were injected with blood, her lips turned purple, a deathlike pallor overspread her forehead, and her hands trembled violently; but Regnauld did not observe her; he was occu- pied with his garmentshis wedding garments! He made his polished pumps creak upon the floor, unbuttoned his blue coat, and displayed his white vest. You know. bourgeoise, he said, that I have married Titine, but you do not know how I have become rich. Well, it was Titine ! How ! stammered Madame Vachelier. How? why, rfitine is the daughter of a farmer in the neighborhood of Semur, an old knaveoh, I am frank, I do not spare my father-in.lawan old knave, who turned his daughter omit of doors, to please a hag of a second wife whom he had married, and a little wretch of a boy that he had by her. You understand, bourgeoise, that, in returning from Lyons to Paris by the way of Burgundy, I passed through there. The little wretch of a boy had died, six years ago, of the whoopimig cough. The hag of a wife had followed her boy six months afterwards, and my knave of a father-in-law had kicked the bucket twenty days before I arrived. When I made my appearance in Semur, I found there a distant relative who claimed the property. One moment! I was on the spot; I had a power of attorney from Titine in my pocket. Titines father had three hundred and fifty thousand francs, lauds, ~S48.1 Tile Roast Partridge. 167 one or two houses in Semurin fine, that brings us in fifteen thousand livres income. The dl take business now, bourgeoise, the dl take Paris game now; we are going to be Burgundians, Titine and I. But come, bour- geoise, we have some accounts to settle. The house owes me twelve hundred francsI owe th~ house seven hundred francs: there are five hundred francs due me. It is true, Titine says to me, Dont think of those five hundred francs, but here 1 am, by my faithshort accounts make long friends. You will return here to-morrow, sir. Very well, bourgeoise, I am not uneasy about my money. Adieu, bour- geoise, until to-morrow. And M. Jules Regnauld entered the fiacre which had brought him. They know all, said Madame Vachelier, when she was alone; they hate me, they despise me, they abhor me. How they have deceived me! They loved each other before my face, under my very eyes; and this man whom I loved so well, for whom 1 would have killed my husband, he has come to enjoy the pleasure of making me blush at my crime, of boasting of his happiness to me. Two hours after Jules Regnaulds departure, Lafrenais paid his usual visit to Madame Vachelier; he was dressed with extreme elegance; he wore a shirt with a cambric bosom, a cravat of snowy whiteness, a new ribbon at his button hole, and on his ring finger an antique cameo of great value; his coat, made by a fashionable tailor, was skilfully padded on the shoulders, so that, on this day he was not hump-backed, only his shoulders looked some- what round. Madame Vachelier was- in her chamber, reclining upon a comfortable article of furniture, to-day out of fashion, called a chaise longue. The blinds were closed, the apartment was quite dark. Doctor Lafrenais took an arm-chair, drew it towards the chaise longue, and seated himself at Madame Vacheliers side. My dear Marie, he said, I have just come from your mothers; indeed, it is she who sends me; that is to say, I should have come of myself, but Madame Baudelot wished me to pay you a visit, and inscribe my name on your list, that I might be the first in date. How so, doctor? said Madame Vachelier, in a tone which, to Lafrenais ears, appeared replete with languid softness. Why, you know, Marie, continued the doctor, that you are beautiful and rich ; these are two great faults, or two great merits, which disquiet your mother, and which, on the other hand, will attract suitors, as a mirror draws swallows. I will bet that all the young men, all the widowers, all the old bachelors of the quarter, are now ogling you. Do not forget, Marie; remember, I am first on the list. It is too late, replied Madame Vachelier, in a sharp tone. Howl you are already engaged ? Do you know what love is, doctor ? replied Madame Vachelier, without replying to Lafrenais question. Do I know ? cried the doctor, in an impassioned tone. It is what I have felt for you from the first day that I saw you. Love is an unconquer- able passion, which seizes our hearts like a tyrant, ~vhich subjugates us, devours us, and leads us to sacrifice the world for a smile from the object of our affection. That is what I have done, doctor, said Madame Vachelier, st~rnly. What you have done ? Yes, I love a man who does not love me, and for him I have sacrificed XVhat, Marie ? My life, dsictor; but before that, Vacheliers. 168 The Roast Partridge. [August, The Doctor trembled ; he did not perfectly comprehend the widow, but he felt, indistinctly, that he was about to be informed of some frightful mystery, and that this woman whom he idolized was on the point of reveal- ing herself under some hideous form. How ? he said ; Vachelier ? he died in my arms. The other, said Madame Vachelier, the other, Jules Regnauldyou remember him, Doctor ? Yesgo on. He swallowed the poison designed for Ah, my God 1 said the Doctor; the subcarbonate of copperthe roast partridge Was for Vachelier, said the widow, in a faint voice; and the other hates mehe loves another. Two hours ago he caine to mock at my de- spair and my love. Why did you not let him die, Doctor? we would have been buried side by side; while now he lives, he is happy, he loves and is belovedhe is a husband, ah! of whom, my God !of Justine, Doctor Regnauld loves Justine, Regnauld has married Justine. The doctor, terrified at the tone in which she spoke, and at these fearful disclosures, started backward; then he drew nearer the woman. You are ill, Marie, he said, you are delirious. I tell you that for love of Regnauld, she added, in a deep and hollow voice, 1 tried to poison my husband. You know what happened; now it is my turnI am dying. The Doctor leaped from his arm-chair, ran to the window, drew aside the curtains, opened the blinds, admitted the light and the fresh air into the chamber, then approached the chaise longue, upon which the young woman was reclining; he took Madame Vacheliers arm, and placed his fingers upon the artery of her wrist; he unfastened her dress, laid his hand upon her heart, and stood for a moment, motionless and silent. Madame Vache- her was dead. Locusta 1 he said, Locusta. Madame Vachelier had poisoned herself~ The most violent passions are appeased and extinguished in the face of death ; where hope vanishes, the heart closes, and if the young and beautiful frame has concealed a criminal soul, the change is complete and instan- taneous. A Locusta ! said the Doctor, as he returned home; a poisoner! I loved a Locusta! a pretty business ! All passion was extinguished in the heart of Doctor Lafrenais, but not the memory of this scene. He resisted the prayers of Madame Baudelot, the entreaties of his patients, left the faubourg Saint-Martin, and went to plant his standard in the faubourg Saint.Honor#~. Notwithstanding the inequality of his shoulders, he was loved by a woman, whom he married, and for whose sake, he said, he was ready todo anything in the world, except to. pass through the Rue des Lombards. Jules Regnauld, who had married Mademoiselle Justine at the mayoralty of his arrondissement, and in the church of Saint-M6ry, set out with his wife for Burgundy, a few hours after he had left Madame Vachelier, Ma- dame Regnauld not minding a note of five hundred francs, more or less, and unwilling that he should see this woman again. He cultivated the paternal fields of his little Titine, bought a neat cabriolet, fine horses, prided himself upon making excellent wines, and became the best sportsman in the country; but never, under any pretext, would Madame Regnauld permit a roast partridge to appear upon her table. 1848.1 Ca4forni~.. l6~ CA LIFOIINIA.~ As its double title premises, the work before us has two different aspects; The first portion (a portionout of all proportion,) leads the weary reader on the weary travellers track, through two hundred and forty pages of wilder- ness, ere he reach the Eldoradonot The End, but the foot of the west- ern slope of the Sierra Nevada. In toiling through this portion of Mr. Bryants work, we were forcibly reminded of the assertion in his preface, that he has carefully avoided such embellishment as would tend to impress the reader with a false or incor- rect idea of what he saw and describes, lie has invented nothing to make his narrative more dramatic and amusing than the truth may render it.~ We say that we were forcibly reminded of this assertion, and felt disposed to condense the statement thus, he has avoided all embellishment, and he has invented nothing. Why is it that Fremonts report, though a mere narrative of his progtess through the wilderness, has power to attract and interest the reader; while in following Mr. Bryants march over a part of the same ground, ~ve experi- ence a feeling ~vhich we will let him describe in his own words. This change in the physical formation of the surface of the country, cheered us with the hope that we should obtain a view of the valley of the Sacramento be- fore night. But as we ascended elevation after elevation, with anticipations of a prospect so gratifying, our hopes were as often disappointed by a succession of hills or mountains rising one after another beyond us. We will not undertake to answer our own question, and we summarily give it as our opinion that, with abundance of original and valuable matter, and a talent of no vulgar order, Mr. Bryant has altogether failed in reconciling us to his long loitering in the desert. But lest we ourself incur the reproach which we have ventured to address, we here abruptly cross the dividing ridge, and imagine ourself near the shore of the great Pacific, in the emi- grants golden Hesperia, in Alta California, or rather in that portion of the territory so called, which is bounded at the east by the Sierra Nevada. To give an approximative idea of the topography of Lhis long, narrow strip, it may be sufficient to state, that it consists of two valleys watered respect- ively by the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers, which, running from op-. posite directions, unite at the eastern extremity of that vast sheet of water called the bay of San Francisco. It must be understood, however, that in their course towards the ocean, these rivers receive, generally on their eastern side, many minor streams, the irrigators of many tributary valleys; that the character of the country is hilly, and that owing to the presence of dividing summits on the side of the Pacific, several torrents roll their fertilizing wa- te rs directly to the ocean, through valleys of no great extent, but of surpass- ing beauty and exuberance. This view will at once enable the reflective reader to comprehend why no general description can well apply to California; why so many conflicting accounts have reached us; and why, until lately, it has remained a grazing *What I saw in California: being the Journal of a Tour, by the Emigrant Route and South Pass of the Rocky Noun~ains, across the Continent of North America, the Great Desert Ba- sin, and through California in the years 1846 and 1847. All which I saw, and part of whic I was. By Edwin Bryant, late Alcalde of St. Francisco. l2mo., pp. 43~. New-York; Appleton & Co.

1848.1 Ca4forni~.. l6~ CA LIFOIINIA.~ As its double title premises, the work before us has two different aspects; The first portion (a portionout of all proportion,) leads the weary reader on the weary travellers track, through two hundred and forty pages of wilder- ness, ere he reach the Eldoradonot The End, but the foot of the west- ern slope of the Sierra Nevada. In toiling through this portion of Mr. Bryants work, we were forcibly reminded of the assertion in his preface, that he has carefully avoided such embellishment as would tend to impress the reader with a false or incor- rect idea of what he saw and describes, lie has invented nothing to make his narrative more dramatic and amusing than the truth may render it.~ We say that we were forcibly reminded of this assertion, and felt disposed to condense the statement thus, he has avoided all embellishment, and he has invented nothing. Why is it that Fremonts report, though a mere narrative of his progtess through the wilderness, has power to attract and interest the reader; while in following Mr. Bryants march over a part of the same ground, ~ve experi- ence a feeling ~vhich we will let him describe in his own words. This change in the physical formation of the surface of the country, cheered us with the hope that we should obtain a view of the valley of the Sacramento be- fore night. But as we ascended elevation after elevation, with anticipations of a prospect so gratifying, our hopes were as often disappointed by a succession of hills or mountains rising one after another beyond us. We will not undertake to answer our own question, and we summarily give it as our opinion that, with abundance of original and valuable matter, and a talent of no vulgar order, Mr. Bryant has altogether failed in reconciling us to his long loitering in the desert. But lest we ourself incur the reproach which we have ventured to address, we here abruptly cross the dividing ridge, and imagine ourself near the shore of the great Pacific, in the emi- grants golden Hesperia, in Alta California, or rather in that portion of the territory so called, which is bounded at the east by the Sierra Nevada. To give an approximative idea of the topography of Lhis long, narrow strip, it may be sufficient to state, that it consists of two valleys watered respect- ively by the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers, which, running from op-. posite directions, unite at the eastern extremity of that vast sheet of water called the bay of San Francisco. It must be understood, however, that in their course towards the ocean, these rivers receive, generally on their eastern side, many minor streams, the irrigators of many tributary valleys; that the character of the country is hilly, and that owing to the presence of dividing summits on the side of the Pacific, several torrents roll their fertilizing wa- te rs directly to the ocean, through valleys of no great extent, but of surpass- ing beauty and exuberance. This view will at once enable the reflective reader to comprehend why no general description can well apply to California; why so many conflicting accounts have reached us; and why, until lately, it has remained a grazing *What I saw in California: being the Journal of a Tour, by the Emigrant Route and South Pass of the Rocky Noun~ains, across the Continent of North America, the Great Desert Ba- sin, and through California in the years 1846 and 1847. All which I saw, and part of whic I was. By Edwin Bryant, late Alcalde of St. Francisco. l2mo., pp. 43~. New-York; Appleton & Co. 170 California. [August, con ntry.~ A rolling region, with almost abrupt features, favored with a beautiful climate; bounded on one side by the sea, by snowy summits on the other; subject to long droughts and sudden floods of rain, ~viil naturally present the utmost variety. Travellers, enraptured with some sequestered dale, or disgusted with the wild oats and stunted timber of situations less favored, romance pro or con, at random, but in good faith; and the witness of a successful experiment spreads reports of fabulous crops to tempt Yan- kee cupidity. But the judicious and lazy Spaniard, considering the uncer- tainty of natural, the toil of artificial irrig~ tion, the extraordinary mildness of the climate, the low price of the soil, and his own national preference for the general ease, but occasional excitement and adventure of a half no- madic life, would naturally forego the gain and stea(ly toil of agriculture and, enclosing within the fence of a Mexican title~deed a whole vega or a whole range of hills, turn all his attention to the raising of cattle. This will also account for the fact, that despite all its resources, mineral, agricultural, and pastoraldespite the known salubrity of its climate and its well merited reputation for longevity and human increase, Califortija, though long settled, has never possessed population enough to be admitted as a State into the Mexican confederacy. The favorite pursuit of its residents is the very one that allows the fewest inhabitants to the acre. Here a remark occurs to us, which will apply as well to Mr. Bryant as to other travellers. They very often describe, most circumstantially, some par~ ticular site, stream, town, or seaport, but never think of conveying that gene- ral, though perhaps superficial, idea of a region, which the general reader loves to catch, as he would the effect of a painting, without the labor of studying out the details. Now it so happens that we are not all emigrants tn expectancy, nor speculators in lithographed Monterey town lots; there are sotne of us who open a book of travel through mere curiosity or love of learning. To such it is somewhat immaterial to learn whereabouts in Cali- fornia a sulphur hill uprises, or the presence of gold has been suspected, or sure indications of bituminous coal discovered. But it is a matter of con- siderable interest to learn how the Spanish population of that country may view the rapid influx of foreigners ; what their ways atid manners might be under their former system, and how affected by contact with our own. Strange mistake of travel writers! In the midst of a peculiar civilization, surrounded by manners and customs, the growth of an unusual order of so- ciety, they leave these undescribed, and persist in exposing, by an abuse of printing, the names and domestic habits of some obscure Americans, who, though long settled on a distant shore, differ from their countrymen at home only in this, that they take their tea under circumstances less comfortable, and that they are some six months behind us in the fashion of the coats they wear. We acknowledge our partiality for the Spanish race. Even where most fallen and degenerate, it preserves characteristics peculiarly its own. As the impoverished hidalgo has the talent of draping himself, not ungracefully, within his tattered cloak, so the descendants of the Spaniards excel in throwing a veil of dignity over the most abject degradation. But the Spaniards in California are not a degenerate race; they are tall, active, bold in the rudest sports of the field, and some of our military com- manders might render, and have rendered, a just account of their desultory prowess. Ere American enterprise had crossed the Rocky Mountains, Cal- ifornia was as isolated from the world as any undiscovered island could be; save the rare trading ship that at long intervals visited the-seaports to ex- change, for hides and tallow, English or American wares; save the occasional caravan that forced its way from Mexico through the dreary desert of Sono 1848.] Cal fornia. 171 ra, escorting some new military commandante, this happy region owned no sutercourse with the civilized world. Habits and customs therefore grew up, which, whether good or bad per se, were unquestionably suz gnerrs. rI~he large Indian population was kept in subjection, and rendered useful by the admirable management of the missions. The military organization of the province had little of war except its pomp and circumstance ; there was but little oppression, for there was little power; but. little crime, for the population was thin and scattered ; little fraud, for there was no money; property was scarcely valuable, and there was no want. The Californian gentleman passed his lifea long life usuallyin ease, ignorance, and enjoyment. His property consisted of horses and horned cattle innumerable, whose management he intrusted to his vaqueros; his brand, of which afac simile was registered at the proper office, marked and secured his ownership, and indicated transfers better than bills of sale or kindred inventions of our law. When he began a journey, his favorite va- quero would catch him a dozen horses, to be used in turn. Secure in his commodious Californian saddle, with his riata coiled around the pommel, (his weapon for defence or for the chase,) he would ride a hundred miles in ten or twelve hours without fatigue or inconvenience; and it was no matter to him whether his jaded caballada, which he now cast adrift, ever recovered from the exertion and regained their ancient pasturage, or perished on the road, or fed the grisly bear and cayota. It mi~,ht be that his object in this rapid travelling was only to attend a fandango, given, perhaps, in honor of a funeral, or to allow his revenge at monte to some luckless caballero, of whom he had previously won more hides than would freight some of the fore- and-afters that traded upon the coast. At the table, the juicy haunch of the elk, the luscious meat of the half wild bullock he had helped to chase and brought down with his lasso, the more-than-Burgundy of his native hill-side, and the delicate fish of the bays and rivers of California, formed such a repast as no epicure would spurn. And if the dainty American guest shuddered at the tough tortilla that sup- plied the place of bread, the Californian could return the compliment, and disdain the unsubstantial refinements which more civilized palates might crave. A dance was quickly improvisedthe band, a guitar and the performers voice ; and while the graceful sei~orif a marked the xvfld measure ~with her tiny feet, happy the lover whose sombrero she consented to wear; it was returned afterwards sohis cum sola, on conditions that neither would reveal and neither ever regretted. We must take leave of this tempting subject, so tempting that the re- viewer might forget his duty and turn poet. Besides, these remarks are now an account of the past and not of the l)resent; so soon has the stamp of civilization blotted out the wild virtues and the poetry of the wild vices of the conquered Californians. Mr. Bryant says, in speaking of the town of San Francisco: Wherever the Anglo-Saxon race plant themselves, progress is certain to be displayed in some form or other. Such is their go-ahead energy, that things cannot stand still where they are, whatever may be the circumstances surround- ing them. Notwithstanding the wars and insurrections, I foand the town of San Francisco, on my arrival here, visibly improved. An American population had flowed into it; lots, which heretofore have been considered almost valueless, were selling at high prices; new houses had been huilt. and were in progress; new commercial houses had been established; hotels had beem opened for the accommodation of the travelling and business public ; and the publication of a newspaper had been commenced. The little village of two hundred snub, 172 CaI~fornia. [August, when I arrived here in September last, is fast becoming a town of importance. Ships freighted with full cargoes are entering the port, and landing their mer- chandise to be disposed of at wholesale and retail on shore, instead of the former mode of vending them afloat in the harbor. There is a prevailing air of activ- ity, enterprise, and energy; and men, ia view of the advantageous position of the town for commerce, are making large calculations upon the future; calcula- tions which I believe will be fully realized. We may endorse his statement. He has forgotten, however, to mention the introduction of a class that never fails to follow in the rear of progressive mi- provement; we mean the lawyers. They have flocked into this territory from every direction, even from the Sandwich Islands. The late attorney- general of his Hawaiian majesty is now, we believe, practising law in Cali- fornia. The lawyers prosper; let the reader~d raw his own inference. We might point to several authorities to show that demoralization has thus far kept pace with improvement since the American conquest; let the following sig- nificant paragraph from the work under review suffice: Daring the evening I visited several p blic places, (bar-rooms,) where I saw men and women engaged promiscuously at the game of monte. Gambling is a universal vice in California. All classes and both sexes participate in its excite- ments to some extent. The games, however, while I was present, were con- ducted with great propriety and decorum so far as the native Californians were concerned. The loud swearing and other turbulent demonstrations generally proceeded from the unsuccessful foreigners. I could not but observe the contrast between the two races in this respect. The one bore their losses with stoical composure and indifference; the other announced each unsuccessful bet with profane imprecations and maledictions. Excitement prompted the hazards of the former, avarice the latter. If we have been thus far somewhat severe upon Mr. Bryants work, we must plead the critics stern duty to the public and to writers, and Horaces consolatory extenuation: Vitavi denique culpam Non landem mcmi. Nevertheless we cheerfully recommend a perusal of this book to our read- ers. In the latter part, that which relates to California, Mr. Bryant has embodied many valuable and hitherto unpublished documents. His own views as far as they go, appear just and eminently impartial. Let the reader turn to his account of the suffering of the emigrants in the passes of the Sierra Nevada, an account which, far from exaggerated, is, we believe, slightly softened down from the awful truth; and to him who ponders over that tragedy, horror and disgust may whisper a sermon on charity. In conclusion we would insert some extracts from the last chapter of the work before us. It is well written, and contains in a condensed form much valuable information. The natives formed an ardent and almost adorable attachment for their sl)irit- nal fathers, and were happy, quite happy, under their jurisdiction. Ever ready to obey them, the labor in the field and workshop met with ready compliance, and so prosperous were the institutions, that many of them became wealthy, in the increase of their cattle and great abundance of their granaries. It was no unusual sight to behold the plains for leagues literally spotted with bullocks, and large fields of corn and wheat covering acres of ground. This state of things continued until the period when Mexico underwent a change in its politi- cal form of government, which so disheartened the feelings of the loyal mission- aries, that they became regardless of their establishments, and suffered them to decline for want of attention to their interests. At length, civil discord and an- archy among the Californians prepared more effective measure for their de 1848.] California. 173 struction, and they were left to the superintendence of individuals who plundered them of all that was desirable or capable of removal. Thus, the government commenced the robbery, and its hirelin s carried it out to the letter, destroying and layin~, waste wherever they were placed. In order to give the inhabitants a share of the spoils, some of them were permitted to slaughter the cattle by con- tract, which was an equal division of the proceeds, and the contractors were careful when they delivered one hide to a mission, to reserve two for themselves, ia this way following up the example of their superiors. This important revolution in the systematic order of the monastic institutions took place in 1836, at which period the most important of them possessed pro- perty, exclusive of their lands and tenements, to the value of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. At the present day they have but a little more than dilap- idated walls and restricted boundaries of territory. Notwithstanding this wanton devastation of property, contrary to the opinion of many who were strongly in favor of supporting these religious institutions, the result proved beneficial to the country at large. Individual enterprise succeeded as the lands became distributed so that the Californian beheld himself no longer dependent on the bounty of his spiritual directors, but, on the contrary, he was enabled to give support to them, from the increase and abundance of his own possessions. Subsequent to the expulsion of the Mexicans, numbers of ew farms were created, and hundreds of Americans were scattered over the country. Previous to 1830, the actual possessions of horned cattle by the rancheros did not exceed one hundred thousand ; but in 1842, according to a fair e4imate, made by one on the spot, the number had incrensed to four hundred thousand ; so that the aggregate is equal to that held by the missions when in their most flourishing condition. The present number is not much, if any, short of one million. The value of the hides and tallow derived from the annual matanzas may he estimated at $372,000. These two commodities, with the exception of some beaver, sea-otter, and other furs, comprise the most important part of the expor- tations, which, in addition, would augment the value of exports to $400,000. The permanent population of that portion of Upper California, situnted between the Sierra Nevada and the Pacific, I estimate at 25,000. Of this number, 8,000 are Hispano-Americans, 5,000 foreigners, chiefly from the United States, and 12,000 christianized Indians. There are considerable numbers of wild or Gentile Indians inhabiting the valley of the San Joaquin, and the gorges of the Sierra, not included in this estimate. They are probably as numerous as the Christian Indians. The Indian population inhabiting the region of the Great Salt Lake, Marys river, the oases of the Great Desert Basin,~and the country bordering the Rio Colorado and its tributaries, being spread over a vast extent of territory, are scarcely seen, although the aggregate number is considerable. The Californians do not differ materially from the Mexicans, from whom they are descended, in other provinces of that country. Physically and intellectually, the men, probably, are superior to the same race farther south, and inhabiting the countries contiguous to the city of Mexico. The intermixture of blood with the Indian and negro races has been less, although it is very perceptible. The men, as a general fact, are well made, with pleasing, sprightly counte- nances, and possessing much grace and ease of manners, and vivacity of conversa- tion. But hitherto the y have had little knowledge of the world and of events, beyond what they have Ii eard through Mexico, and derived from the supercargoes of merchant-ships, and whalemen touching upon the coast. There are no public schools in the countryat least I never heard of one. There are but few books. General Valldjo has a library with many valuable books, and this is the only one I saw, although there are others; but they are rare, and confined to a few families. The men are almost constantly on horseback, and as horsemen excel any I have seen in other parts of the world. Prom the nature of their pursuits and amuse- ments, they have brought horsemanship to a perfection challenging admiration and exciting astonisi~ment. They are trained to the horse and the use of the lasso (riata, as it is here called.) from their infancy. The first act of a child, when he is able to stand alone, is to throw his toy-lasso around the neck of a kitten; his next feat is performed on the dog; his next upon a goat or calf; and so on, until he mounts the horsg, and demonstrates his skill upon horses and cattle. The crown- lug feat of dexterity with the riata, and of horsemanship, combined with daring 174 Gal~forma. [August, courage, is the lassoing of the grisly bear. This feat is performed frequently upon this large and ferocious animal, but it is sometimes fatal to the performer and his horse. Well drilled, with experienced military leaders, such as would inspire them with confidence in their skill and prowess, the Californians ought to be the finest cavalry in the world. The Californian saddle is, I venture to assert, the best that has been invented, for the horse and the rider. Seated in one of these, it is scarcely possible to be unseated by any ordinary casualty. The bridle-bit is clumsily made, but so constructed that the horse is compelled to obey the rider upon the slightest intimation. The spurs are of immense size, but they answer to an experienced horseman the double purpose of exercising the horse, and of main- taining the rider in his seat under difficult circumstances. For the pleasures of the table they care but little. With his horse and trap- pings, his sarape and blanket, a piece of beef and a tortilla, the Californian is content, so far as his personal comforts are concerned. But he is ardent in his pursuit of amusement and pleasure, and these consist chiefly in the fandango, the game of monte, horse-racing, and bull and bear baiting. They gamble freely and desperately, but pay their losses with the most strict punctuality, at any and every sacrifice, i~~d manifest but little concern about them. They are obedient to their magistrates; and in all disputed cases decided by them, acquiesce without uttering a word of complaint. They have been accused of treachery and insin- cerity. Whatever may have been the grounds for these accusations in particular instances, I know not; but judging from my own observation and experience, they are as free from these qualities as our own people. While the men are employed in attending to the herds of cattle and horses, and engaged in their other amusements, the women (I speak of the middle classes on the ranchos) superintend and perform most of the drudgery appertaining to house- keeping, and the cultivation of the gardens, from whence are drawn such vege- tables as are consumed at the table. rEhese are few, consisting of frijoles, potatoes, onions, and chiles. The assistants in these labors are the Indian men and women, legally reduced to servitude. The soil of that portion of California between the Sierra Nevada and the Pacific, will compare, in point of fertility, with any that I have seen elsewhere. As I have already described such portions of it as have come under my observa- tion, it is unnecessary for me here to descend to particulars. Wheat, barley, and other small grains, with hemp, flax, and tobacco, can be produced in all th valleys, without irrigation. To produce maize, potatoes, and other garden vege- tables, irrigation is necessary. Oats and niustard grow spontaneously, withsuch rankness as to be considered nuisances upon the soil. I have forced my way through thousands of acres of these, higher than my head when mounted on a horse. The oats grow to the summits of the hills, but they are not here so tall and rank as in the valleys. The varieties of grasses are greater than on the Atlantic side of the Continent, and far more nutritious. I have seen seven different kinds of clover, several of them in a dry state, depositing a seed upon the ground so abundant as to cover it, which is lapped up by the cattle and horses and other animals, as corn or oats,. when threshed, would be with us. All the grasses, and they cover the entire country, are heavily seeded, and when ripe, are asfattening to stock m~s the grains which we feed to our beef, horses and hogs. Hence it is unnecessary to the sus- tenance or fattening of stock, to raise corn for their consumption. Agriculture is in its rudest state. The f rmning implements which have been used by the Califomians, with few exceptions, are the same as were used three hundred years ago, when Mexico was conquered by Cortez. N description of them would be tpdious. The plough, however, which merely scratches the ground~ is the fork of a small tree. It is the same pattern as the Roman plough, two thousand years a~,o. Other agricultural implements are of the same descrip- tion. The Americans, and other foreigners, are, however, introducing the America plough, and other American farming tools, the consequence of which has already been, to some extent, to produce a revolution in agriculture. The crops of wheat and barley, which I saw about the 1st of June, while passing thrqugii the country on my journey to the United States, exceeded in promise any which I have seen in the United States. It was reported to me that Captain Sutters crop of wheat, for 1847, would amount to 75,000 bushels. 1848.] Cahfornza. 1 7~ The principal product of the country has been its cattle and horses. The cattle are, I think, the largest and finest I ever saw, and the beef is more delicious. There are immense herds of these, to which I have previously referred; and their hides and tallow, when slaughtered, have hitherto composed the principal exports from the country. If I were to hazard an estimate of the number of hides annually exported, it would be conjectural, and not worth much. I would sup- pose, however, at this time, (1847,) that the number would not fall much short of 150,000, and a corresponding number of arrobas (25 pounds) of tallow. The average value of cattle is about five dollars per head. The horses and mules are correspondingly numerous with the cattle; and although the most of them are used in the country, considerable numbers are driven to Sonora, New-Mexico, and other southern provinces, and some of them to the United States, for a market. They are smaller than the American horses, and I do not think them equal for continuous hard service; but on short trips, for riding, their speed and endurance are not often, if ever, equalled by our breed of horses. The value of good horses is from $10 to $25; of mares, $5. The prices have, however, since the Americans came into the country, become fluctuating, and the value of both horses and cattle is increasing rapidly. The wild animals of California are the wild-horse, the elk, the black-tailed deer, antelope, grisly bear, all in large numbers. Added to these are the beaver, otter, coyote, hare, squirrel, and the usual variety of other small animals. There is not so great a variety of small birds as I have seen elsewhere. I do not consider that the country presents strong attractions for the ornithologist. But what is wanting in variety is made up in numbers. The bays and indentations on the coast, as well as the rivers and lakesin the interior, swarm with myriads of wild-geese, ducks, swans, and other water birds. The geese and ducks are a mongrel race, their plumage being variegated, the same as our barnyard fowls. Some of the islands in the harbor, near San Francisco, are white with the guano (leposited by these birds; and boatloads of eggs are taken from them. The pheasant and partridge are abundant in the mountains. In regard to the minerals of California, not much is yet known. It has been the policy of the owners of land upon which there existed minerals, to conceal them as much as possible. A reason for this has been, that the law of Mexico is s ch, that if one man discovers a mine of any kind upon another mans land, and th proprietor does not work it, the former may denounce the mine and take possession of it, and hold it so long as he continues to work it. 1-lence the proprietors of land upin which there are valuable mineral ores, conceal their existence as much as possible. While in California I saw quicksilver, silver, lead and iron ores, and the specimens were taken from mines said to be inexhaustible. From good au- thority I learned the existence of sold and copper mines, the metals being combined; and I saw specimens of coal taken from two or three different points, but I do not know what the indications were as to quality. Brimstone, saltpetme, muriate and carbonate of soda, and bitumen, are abundant. There is little doubt that California is as rich in minerals of all kinds as any portion of Mexico. I have taken much pains to describe to the reader, from day to day, and at different points during my travels in California, the temperature and weather. It is rarely so cold in the settled portions of California as to congeal water. But twice only while here I saw ice; and then not thicker than window-glass. I saw no snow resting upon the ground. The annual rains commence in November, and continue, with intervals of pleasant, spring-like weather, until May. From May to November, usually, no rain falls. There are, however, exceptions. Rain sometimes falls in August. The thermometer, at any season of the year, rarely sinks below 500 or rises above 800. In certain positions on the coast, and espe- cially at San Francisco, the winds rise diurnally, and blowing fresh upon the shore render the temperature cool in midsummer. In the winter the wind blows from the land, and the temperature at these points is warmer. These local peculiarities of climate are not descriptive of the general climate of the interior. For salubrity, I do not think there is any climate in the worhi superior to that of the coast of California. I was in the country nearly a year, exposed much of the time to great hardships and privations, sleeping, for the most part, in the open air, and I never felt while there the first pang of disease, or the sli ghtest indication of bad health. On some porticas of the Sacramento and San Joaquin ivers, 176 Cal jfornia. [August, where vegetation is rank, and decays in the autumn, the malaria produces chills and fever, but generally the attacks are slight and yield easily to medicine. The atmosphere is so pure and preservative along the coast, that I never saw putrified flesh, although I have seen, in midsummer, dead carcasses lying exposed to the sun and weather for months. They emitted no offensive smell. There is but little disease in the country arising from the climate. The botany and flora of C alifornia are rich, and will hereafter form a fruitful field of discovery to the naturalist. There are numerous plants reported to pos- sess extraordinary medical virtues. The soap-plant (am6le) is one which appears to be among the most serviceable. The root, which is the saponaceous portion of the plant, resembles the onion, but possesses the quality of cleansing linen equal to any oleic soap manufactured by my friends Cornwall & Brother, of Louisville, Ky. There is another plant in high estimation with the Californians, called cancha- lagua, which is held by them as an antidote to all the diseases to which they are subject; but in particular, for cases of fever and ague. For purifying the blood, and regulating the system, I think it surpasses all the medicinal herbs that have been brought into notice, and it must become, in due time, one of the most im- portant articles in the practice of medicine. In the season for flowers, which is generally during the months of May and June, its pretty pink-colored blossoms form a conspicuous display in the great variety which adorn the fields of California. The water-power in California is ample for any required mill purposes. Timber for lumber is not so convenient as is desirable. There is, however, a sufficiency of it, which, when improvements are made, will be more accessible. The timber on the Sierra Nevada, the most magnificent in the world, cannot be, at present, available. The evergreen oak, that grows generally in the valleys, is not vaIn- able, except for fuel, But in the ca~tadas of the hills, aud at several places on the ~oast, particularly at Santa Cruz and Bodega, there is an amount of pine and fir, ~adapted for lumber, that will not be consumed for a long time. 1848.1 Financial and Commercial Review. 177 FINANCIAL AND COl~IMERCIIL REVIEW. THE affairs of commerce have continued to be greatly influenced by the course of political events in Europe. As far as contraction of mercantile, credits throughout the cotsimercial world, abundance of raw material, low prices, and plenteousness of food go, there exist all the elements of a most prosperous commercial season; but they are all held in abeyance, not only by the political commotions that have broken forth, but from the direction which governmental reforms have takenmore particularly in France. In our number for May we sketched briefly the financial views of those socialist leaders whose conacils predominated in the new government; that the revolution was declared to be in favor of those without capital, against those possessed of it, and that the result was, great timidity of capitalists, impossibility of realizing property, and utter prostra- tion of commercial enterprise. We then remarked as follows in reference to the decree suspending the Bank of France The suspension, under the circumstances, is clearly a nefarious trick of the Commu- nist leaders to enable them to make indefinite advances to meet the boundless demands from the people, which the principles they have enonci ted have already called into existence. M. Louis Blanc, in addre. in~ the people on the 17th March, us~ the fbllow- ing expressions: The peril would be a for the holders of capital and the instruments of labor, if they refused the concessions, which the natural progress of ideas, and the great act of emancipation just accomplished, commanded. What concessions he requires of capital he does not clearly state in wards, but it is evident, if the people are to be supported by governmeut, the means must be derived from capital. The proposition thus simplifies itself into a general robbery of the rich for the benefit of the mass of the people. This is, in lact, the genius of the provisional government. This theory it is, with which the most villainous demagogues are leading the people, while themselves are plundering the nations treasury. The perils ~ hicK holders of capital were to undergo was made partly apparent in the demonstration of May 15, but in a more awful degree in the events of the last week of June. That the people of France, after centuries of oppression, should be poor and misera- ble, is matter of course. That they should not comprehend all the duties, privileges, and obligations of seIf-gover meut is not to ba wondered at; and the transition from monarchial oppression to republican independence should be gradual. When power falls from the hands of a despot, its abode in the hands of an aristocracy for a time pre- pares the way for its successful exercise by the middle classes, or bourgenise, by whom it is gradually transmitted into the hands of the whole people, where it alone rightfully belongs. In France, in the progress of popular rights, power on its way from the des- potic hands of Louis XIV. had reached the hands of the bourgeoise and was gradually seeking those of the people. At this stage of national progress, the class of Socialists, bad men, and traitorous demagogues, have stirred up a civil war between the people and the bourgeoise, the effect of which must be to retard the progress of power tow- ards its final resting ptace, in the hands of thu people. The Socialist plan of support- ing large numbers of people in idleness at the expense of the property-holders and industrious, however apparently necessary it may have been as a state necessity, was an impossihility. Those persons were to be fed and employed. For the state to undertake it was simply ridiculous. The duty of the government was to maintain order, preserve by all means credit and confidence, and foster private enterprise by reducing expenses, removing taxes, abolishing restrictions, and by every mode encouraging private enter- prise, which alone could give employment to the masses of poor. The course of the gov- ernment was the reverse of this. It undertook to employ people at wages to do nothing, 1~0L. XXIItNO. cxxtt. 6

1848.1 Financial and Commercial Review. 177 FINANCIAL AND COl~IMERCIIL REVIEW. THE affairs of commerce have continued to be greatly influenced by the course of political events in Europe. As far as contraction of mercantile, credits throughout the cotsimercial world, abundance of raw material, low prices, and plenteousness of food go, there exist all the elements of a most prosperous commercial season; but they are all held in abeyance, not only by the political commotions that have broken forth, but from the direction which governmental reforms have takenmore particularly in France. In our number for May we sketched briefly the financial views of those socialist leaders whose conacils predominated in the new government; that the revolution was declared to be in favor of those without capital, against those possessed of it, and that the result was, great timidity of capitalists, impossibility of realizing property, and utter prostra- tion of commercial enterprise. We then remarked as follows in reference to the decree suspending the Bank of France The suspension, under the circumstances, is clearly a nefarious trick of the Commu- nist leaders to enable them to make indefinite advances to meet the boundless demands from the people, which the principles they have enonci ted have already called into existence. M. Louis Blanc, in addre. in~ the people on the 17th March, us~ the fbllow- ing expressions: The peril would be a for the holders of capital and the instruments of labor, if they refused the concessions, which the natural progress of ideas, and the great act of emancipation just accomplished, commanded. What concessions he requires of capital he does not clearly state in wards, but it is evident, if the people are to be supported by governmeut, the means must be derived from capital. The proposition thus simplifies itself into a general robbery of the rich for the benefit of the mass of the people. This is, in lact, the genius of the provisional government. This theory it is, with which the most villainous demagogues are leading the people, while themselves are plundering the nations treasury. The perils ~ hicK holders of capital were to undergo was made partly apparent in the demonstration of May 15, but in a more awful degree in the events of the last week of June. That the people of France, after centuries of oppression, should be poor and misera- ble, is matter of course. That they should not comprehend all the duties, privileges, and obligations of seIf-gover meut is not to ba wondered at; and the transition from monarchial oppression to republican independence should be gradual. When power falls from the hands of a despot, its abode in the hands of an aristocracy for a time pre- pares the way for its successful exercise by the middle classes, or bourgenise, by whom it is gradually transmitted into the hands of the whole people, where it alone rightfully belongs. In France, in the progress of popular rights, power on its way from the des- potic hands of Louis XIV. had reached the hands of the bourgeoise and was gradually seeking those of the people. At this stage of national progress, the class of Socialists, bad men, and traitorous demagogues, have stirred up a civil war between the people and the bourgeoise, the effect of which must be to retard the progress of power tow- ards its final resting ptace, in the hands of thu people. The Socialist plan of support- ing large numbers of people in idleness at the expense of the property-holders and industrious, however apparently necessary it may have been as a state necessity, was an impossihility. Those persons were to be fed and employed. For the state to undertake it was simply ridiculous. The duty of the government was to maintain order, preserve by all means credit and confidence, and foster private enterprise by reducing expenses, removing taxes, abolishing restrictions, and by every mode encouraging private enter- prise, which alone could give employment to the masses of poor. The course of the gov- ernment was the reverse of this. It undertook to employ people at wages to do nothing, 1~0L. XXIItNO. cxxtt. 6 [August, 178 Financial and (ilom7ne,cial Revicw. and by so doing withdrew workmen from productive employments. To meet the ex- pense of this undertaking and other chimeras it squandered the reso ~rces of the state, and was compelled to increase the taxes. The numerous projects for the spoliation of property caused capital to migrate, commercial credits to shrink, trade to perish, and en- terprise to wither amid increasing fears. Au inevitable consequence was increasing popular distress, swelling the clamor for the government to grant that direct relief which Socialists had taught the people to expect. Those unfortunate and misled people were starving, and their banners were inscribed with the ominous words, bread or death. They had been reduced to this alternative by the government and their desperation was made the instrument in the hands of demnannues to work o t designs only frustrated by the steady valor of the people rallying to the support of their government, and the re- public is apparently firm for the moment. The finances of the French government continue, however, to be the chief cause of alarm. It is obvious that the triumph of any particular party in the government is matter of minor importance, if that party cannot obtain the leans of carrying on the govern- ment. Thus far the new minister appears to have opposed the singularly futile proposi- tions of the old one, but has not produced any practicable plan of raising the menus. The direct taxes for May were 22,222,400f. only, against 42,007,000 in April; and the addi- tional 45 centirnes levied by the provisional government is averywhere resisted, particu- larly in the Gironde, where an insurrection appears to have been excited by the attempt. ed collecti~ of the tax. The octroi tax for Paris, or an income tax upon every article of consom~ion brought into the city from the country, was exceedingly unpopular and consequently unproductive. While die revenues so declined the expenses are fearfully increased, and the estimates are for 13-13 as follo~vs: Diminution of receipts f.232,000,000 Increase of expense 634,000,t)Od Apparent deficit.. - f.866,000,000 The minister calculated on 28147332Sf. from data shown to be erroneousthus lie calculates on 190,000,OOOf. from the 45 centimes tax, which will nut give more than 60,000,000f. and his whole figure will be reduced to $150000000, leaving f.7 16,000,000 to be met, to which ~ld treasury bills due in October 320,000,060f., and due savings banks depositors 284,000,OOOf., and the gross deficit is l,320,000,OOOf. for the year, equal to $250,000,000 for one year! being the whole expense of the Uniied States anverurneut for ten years. This awful prospect is amidst a stnte of affairs adverse to the payment of taxes. It is true the real republican party, composed of the shopkeepers, manufacturers,. and men of property, have triumphed, and from that triumph may result continued peace and slowly returning trade and industry, ~uch as may enable them to pay if they have the will to meet the great expenditure incurred. It is very obviotis that under ex- isting circumstances one of three thinas must be resorted todirect taxation, loans, or paper money. The former is being attended with ill success, the second is impossible in the present state of the market, and the third has been rejected. It would seem, how- ever, that it will become inevitable, and indeed as a mode of taxation in times of great public exigencies it is not objectionable. The question is whether it can he adopted; that is, whether sufficient confidence still exists to make it feasible. Among the singular propositions of the French government is that of M. Duclere to take the insurance of all property into the hands of the government. The mini tar states the insurable property of France as follows: INSURABLE PROPERTY OF FRANCE. 7,000,000 buildings, worth 37,000,000,000 Furniture .20,000,000,000 Agricultural produce 5,OOt),000.000 Sheep and cattle 2,000,000,000 Commercial property and merchandise 40,000,000,000 f. 104,000,000,000 l9,500,000,00(~ 1848.1 Financial and Commercial 1?cvz~ 1~9 The minister proposes to indemPify insurance companies and then cnmpel the inse- ance of all houses and furniture, and snake that on produce and goods optional. By this means he estimates that the state will derive an income of f.40,000,000, for which the state would become responsible for that vast amount of property. It is obvious that this proposition is simply a tax upon all descriptions of property, on condition that the ~tate is responsible for its loss. In March last there were 245,7 16,044f. commercial bills discounted by the Paris Bank; the amount is now reported at 114,431,757f., from which deduct 52,000,000 treas- ury hills, and there remains 62,000,000f. of commercial hills discounted in Paris, a reduc- tion of five-sixths since February. The government is gradually absorbing all the means of the Bank. The leading men of the French government since the Revolution of February, have very generally repudiated the idea of paper money, but the e~~encies of the State are such as to make it evident on all sides that such a resort must become inevitable, and per lisps for the interests of republicanism it may he for the best that it should be prom~aly resorted to. In the case of the French people the political difficulty which overwh,hns them is of a financial character. Since 1830 the system of taxation has been constantly becoming more oppressive, until the means of one of the wealthiest states of Europe seemed to he exhausted in attempting to sustain an expenditure more profuse than that of any other existing government. This prod~gality of outlay was the sole dependence of the Orleans dynasty. In achieving independence of monarchism, the leading good to be realized was relaxation of government expense and a diminution of taxes, which are necessarily paid by the industrious, the ingenious, and the wealthy. If we now compare the budgets of past years, with that of the Provisional Government for 1848, we shall see 1mw far the realization of this object has been attempted, The following are the aggre- aates of expense for several years 1829 Charles XJ f. 986,l5~,821 $18490 778 1842 Louis Phillippe. - 1,380,160,000 258,780,Ouo !847 .~ 1,387,870680 ...259 725,7.52 848 National Assembly 1,680,222,606. 15,041,739 The whole expenditure of the English government is $250,000,000, and of the United States $25,000,000. Now then the first year of the republic shows an increase of expense of 20 per cent. The practical change exists only in the fact that Louis Phillippe Sal). ported 550,000 office holders, who sustained his government. Those men were put out ~t is asserted by the people, and the socialists of both classes, Communists and Four - aerites, claim that the people, who are defined by Louis Blanc to be those whose only means is labos-, are entitled to government support, that is, that the government must find them employ if it can, wages at any rate. Now it results that 550,000 dynastic office holders are displaced for at least an equal number of socialist idlers dependent on the new government. The great mass of the French people who produce its wealth, paid the office holders, and were now required to pay the idlers, at $50,000,000 more expense, because the working offices of the government must still be filled by competent persons. What has France gained by this exchange? Clearly nothing; she is only put in the way of gaining something. Now the government of Louis Phillipe fell because the real peo. ple of France could or would no longer support so wasteatl and corrupt an expenditure. The new govern mont without credit and at a moment of stagnation of trade and general alarm attempts to increase the direct taxes. This is clearly not the mode by which to make new institutions popular. The people saw the necessity of putting down the at- tempt of the socialists to pension the idlers and they triumphed. They have now the great difficulty of the finances to meet. Rigid economy is the first duty, but this is not promptly practicable, and paper money as a means of taxation is probably the best mode of supplying resources. The gradual and inevitable depreciation of the paper distributed its loss pretty equally among all classes, and lightens taxation on the iimdnstrious while it ~mposes upon the state creditor his prOportion of the burdens of the state. The old c~ua iso Financial and Commercial Review. [August, tinental money of the United States is an example of the successful use of such an instru- ment in times of great national emergency. It carried the government through a dark period when direct taxation, as exemplified in the subseqdent whiskey war, would have been fatal to the national nnion. A bill has heen introduced into the French Assembly SE) furnish a paper cnrrency for France, in many respects like the free banking law of New York, as it originally stood. The hill proposes that the government in Paris should issue, as money, hills from $5 to $200, to be made a legal tender but inconvertible into specie, upon mortgages, of all real estate at three. fifths the value of the property, exclusive of mortgages. The loans to run for terms not over 15 years, and to hear 3~ per ct. interest. Every 5 years a new valuation of the mortgaged property to he made. This is in fact a proposition to turn the government into an immense loan office the bills of which, issued on all the real property of France, to be legal tender eacl~jin the arrondisement of the mortgaged prooerty. The value of real property in France is nearly as follows 11,000,000 proprietors $4,500,000,000 Mortgages, report of Director of Domains 065,000,000 Balance 2,435,000,000 The new hill authorises to three-fifths this amount, or $1,461,000,000a very respecta- ble amount of paper money. if this should be carried into effect to one-tenth of its ca- pacity only, France would be flooded with paper money, which would operate to the re- pudiation of the present debt and the discharge of all debts npon real estatesas thus; The Director General of Domains states that existing mortgages amount to $2,000,000,000 on a specie basis; if the holders of mortgaged property apply for government money to this extent and pay off old mortgages, they would then have afloat as much paper money as would make all other debts worthless. This paper money it is proposed to make a legal tender and inconvertible. Hence a moderate issue will sink its 4alue rapidly. The same bill authorises the mortgager to pay off in paper or specie when he pleases. Hence for a little money he will soon clear his debt to the State. The proposition is one for general spoliation of creditors, public and private. But as the money is not to be issued by the State for its own expenses, it will aid the finances in no other way than by facili- tating the collection of taxes and virtually repudiating the debt. The interest the State will draw from loans will be indeed a revenue, as thus: If $2,000,000,000 is loaned at 3~ per cent. the State will derive $70,000,000 income, payable in this paper, which in such a volume would be of no value. A debt-ridden and tax-oppressed people like those of France must, sooner or later, acknowledge the utter bankruptcy, social and public, to which they have been reduced by a long series of bad goverronents, and which in fact is the source of all the evils which now afflict them. The new minister, M. Goudchanx, on the 3d July abandoned most of the obnoxious propositions of his predecessor, and the confidence he inspired in connection with the apparent stability of affairs under Gen. Cavaignac had restored confidence to a con- siderable extent, causing business to revive both in Europe and England, and improving the price of securities. It is the case that crops up to the present time promise great abundance, and as a con- sequence prices are lower. Hence all American produce is in England too low for profit- able sales, while on the continent there is no credit to command consignments. The ex- ternal trade of the country, therefore, presents a great contrast to that of last year. The import and export of the port of New-York for the fiscal year ending June 1843,were as follows: 1848.] Financial and Commercial Revzew. I& JL IMPORTS AND EXPORTS, PORT OF NEW-YORK, FOR THE FISCAL YEAR. EXP0RTS..~., IMPORTS. ~ Foreign Goods. Specie Free. Dutiable Domestic. Specie. Free. Dutiable. Duties. July,. ...27.670 42,755 79. 5 6,687,681 294.219. ...861,578... .7,950,602... .2,068,335 Augnst...66.000..~. . .52.357.... .114,688 4,812,063 195,555. ...404,290. .12,974,196 ....3,337,341 .~ept... .3.30,925 46.843 146,532 2.672,452 94,546... .916,109... .8,111,841 .2,096.604 Oct 674,548 81,722 156,852 3,151,238 100,773.... 3t2,383. ...4,753,836 t,213,983 Nov.. .1,455,946 54,558 217,162 1,907,879 58,915... .471,142. ...4,1i7,164 988,119 Dec.. .1,788,867 29,178 97.92.3 1,944,694 39,712... .111,261. ...3,3t6,845 856,516 Jan . .1,738,554 4,926 222689 2,182,389 48,032... .400,829... .9,104,104 305,017 Feb 433,226 15,540 432.909 .1,977,428 49,502... 141 359 9566 2,416,497 March..452.507 99,639 215,690 2,155,952 22,781...2,199,749....5,971,601,...1,553,003 April..1,180,422 55.068 80,961 2,271,800 165,919. ...475,314... .6,639,716 .1,686,506 May.. 2,219,25:1 180,775 35,954 2,248,009 133,822.. .1,283,754. ...5,087,279 .1,312,036 June...1,871,972 90,354 6,922 2,198,150 69,532 25,0S8. ...4,718,404 .1,143,497 Total 12 289 890 953,695 1,867,337 34,209,735 1,273,408....8,] 02,856 82,312,451 20,977,514 it is apparent from this table, that as far as this port is concerned, tbere is an excess of exports this year over the last; and that this excess has arisen from the exports of specie, to an amount greater than the dimiontion which has taken place in the exportable value of prodnce. Hence it is apparetit that there can be no commercial balance actually due abroad; more particnlurly when we consider that the amount of imports at this port has not been, actually, more than in the last year, as follows: iMPORTS, PORT OF NEW-YORK FOR TIlE FISCAL YEAR. 1847 1848 Decrease Increase. Specie 8,307,380 1,273,398 7,0:13,98-2 Free Goods .9,082,713. 8,102,856 979,857 Dutiable 5,200,532 82,312,451 . .17,111,919 Total 82,390,025.. - -- - .91,688,703 9,098 This is an apparent rise of $9,093,000 npon the imports, bnt we believe that it has been very generally the case that the goods have been entered on foreign account, at rates very far in advattce of what they have actually realized in the market. This loss on importa- tion has diminished the sums to be paid out of the proceeds of produce sold abroad. The exports have also been of declinin0 value, and have also to a greater extent titan usual been purchased here ott foteigo accoont. As compared with 1846, the aggregate - smports aud exports have beets as follows: IMPORTS. Specie Free Dutiable Total. 1846 .831.375 11,642,097 60,671,412 73,144,884 1847 8,307,380 9,082,7 1-2 65,200,532 82,590,625 1848 1,273,398 8,102,836 82,312,451 91,688,703 EXPORTS. Specie Foreign Domestic Total. 1846. 2,777.109 . - ..3,852,82-2 27,176,017 33.805,9.18 1847 933,84t ~..2,824,818 43.081,3s14 46,322,053 18-48.... 1-2,289,890 2,821,032. 34,209,735 49,290,637 Although the exports of the present year are less than for the last, yet they exceed even those of domestic goods by those of the last year of the old tariff of 1846, before the peculiar state of the English harvest gave such an extraordinary impulse to the business of 1847. The rates of exchanges at the close of the bnsittess of the past year, were downwards, until the discredit of English merchatits swept from the active capital of our merchatits large sums, depended ttpon as available for the discharge of claims of manufacturers there. There is nothing in these figtires to cause uneasiness now, as to the future. The results of this import table show that the revenue tariff has for t,he present fisca1 year given $2,500,000 more money than was gathered from the operation of the tariff of 1842 in the fiscal year 1846, and $3,000,000 more than was obtained for the fiscal year 1847, in fivc months of which the tariff of 1842 was in operation. It will be observed 1S2 Financial and Commercial Review. [August~ that while the importation of dutiable articles is this year over $20,000,000 in excess of last year, the aggregate imports are diminished only $9,000,000. The low grade of duties induced returns in a dutiable shape of the proceeds of the produce sold abroad, thu diminishing the receipts of free goods and specie. This amount of duties received at this port is probably the largest amount ever before gathered at uny port of the United States It is to be remembered that this amount of money represents a far larger amount of good than usual, inasmuch as they have been purchased (particularly those imported in the last three months) at very low prices, induced by the peculiar state of affairs abroad. Those gunds imported last fall and winter were also to a very considerable extent sent here on foreign account, and were actually paid for by the United States at a valuation much be- low that set forth in the import value, the difference hetween that and the amount of sales constituting a loss sustained by foreign merchants and manufacturers. Their disposition to send here to sell was much diminished in consequence. As, however, their consignments slacked up, the events in Europe offered inducements to our merchants to export specie for the purchase of those cheap goods. The exports of specie since March have, from thi port, amounted to $5,300,000, hut this demand has now fallen off because of growing scarcity of goods abroad through non-production. The diminution of trad~ added to the immigration of capital has produced a demand for good stocks, and the loans negotiated by the state of New York and the federal gov - eminent alluded to in our last, have improved in price under foreigapurchases. The U. S. 6 per cent stock sells in London at96 a 97. The a security and handsome dividends payable on these stocks, is a temptation to invest, independently of the want of security which attaches in a greater or less degree to the stocks of other governmentsmore par- ticularly to those of France. The Three Per Cents had fallen to 45, nod the Fives to 63. It will be observed, probably for the first time in the history of nations, a United States Stock sells higher in London, in open market, than that of France. The French Threes without the dividend are 45, equal to 90 for the United States Sixes, which sell at 94. The fact that the two great houses of Rothschild and Barings have become interested in pushing sales, is a guarantee that the market for U. States securities will widen. When we reflect, ho -ev~r, that for every $1,000 of this stock sent abroad, $2,000 must be le- turned, it is not prospectively a profitable operation, a ore particularly that the money borrowed is producing nothing. The whole amount of the United States debt is as follows: DEBT OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. Amoant. Interest. 1,020,000 00 Th,100 8279,382 09 496,762 6,604,231 35 330,211 4,999,149 45 299,949 12.880,372 00 772,816 303,391 04 15,169 147,500 00 8.850 167,389 31 10.043 128,728 00 7,723 409,860 00 24,768 13,128,650 00 787,819 Total,. - 48,068,494 21 2,810110 Loan, June 1848 6 1368 16,000,000 00 480,000 Grand total,... -- 64,068,494 61 3,290,110 The interest on all these stocks is payablein Jan. and July, except that of the Mexican indem- nity, which ispaid on the 10th of Aug. and of Feb. in each year. The return of the army will bring a large amount of land warrants or bounty loans upon the market. Thus, nearly all the soldiers are entitled to a warrant for 160 acres of land, which, at the minimum gov- eminent price, is worth $200. Congress authorizes in lieu of this warrant, at the option of the claimant, a bounty loan stock for $100, bearing 6 per cent. interest, and redeem- able at the pleasure of the government. If the number of returning soldiers should reach Payable. District of Colambia 5 1-2 per cent. 1.17 p. an, Loaned April, 1842 6 1862 March, 1843 5 1853 July, 1846 6 1856 Jany. 1847.. 6 1867 Mexican md., 1846 ..5 1851 Bounty Luau, 1847 6 plea Tr. Notes of 1837 6 fundable of 1837 fund 6 1867 1846 fundable 1847 6 1848.] Financial and Commercial Review. 183 30,000, and they should all take this stock instead of the warrant, the amount would be $3,000,000 added to the above; making 67,000,000, which will be the sum total of the national debt. The proceeds of the new loan will probably more than meet the whole expense of closing up the war and paying the $3,000,000 dcxvii for the first instalment of the $15,000,000 to be paid to Mexico. In the future there is to be paid probably $3,- 500,000 for claims due to our citizens by Mexico, and assumed by the United States. To these claimants the war is a clear gain, as without war they never would have got their money. There will be in five years $12,000,000 more to pay for final settlement. The prospect is that the debt will not be increased by these payments. The soldiers, how- ever, will not take stock for warrants, because the latter are worth more. They will now bring frcni $115 to $120 in the market, while the former will bring but $98, and the wis- dom of the government in sendiiig the regiments where they belong saves the warrants from depreciation; as thus: if all the regiments were sent to New Orleans, all the men might be compelled to sell the warrants upon a glutted market, and the price would be very small. As it is, the w~raiits fall upon all the markets, and have the benefits of the resources of each. We now have in the above figures the whole amount of debt, and the amounts compare with former dates as follows: AMOUNT OF UNITED STATES DEBT. March 41 March 45 June ~48. Old Debt $333,636 21 185,088 03 127,824 68 District of Columbia,~. 1,440,000 00 1,200,000 00. .1,020,000 00 Treasury Notes,.. - ~5,680,831 40 ~. 2,144,779 22 13,705,899 35 Loans 15,158,932 32 49,244,770 18 Total. $7,454,467 64 17,678,789 62. 64,068,494 21 Thus it appears the increase of debt under the present administration has been $46,- 279,694 59. In March, 1345, the amount of money in the Treasury was $9,659,358, from which deduct 1,525,463 of debts paid, and there rem~ins $3,133,890, and on the 1st June last there remained $1,700,471 80 still in the Tre8snry subject to draft, showing a sum eoual to 6,353,419 to he added to the increase of debt, making $~2,633,118 as the real expense of the war, tip to and including the estimates for 1849. The recovery of the American states from the condition of insolvency to which they were reduced through the overaction of paper money, is a gratifying instance of the recuperative energies of the country ~iid its people. T he st~te of Indiana is an admira- ble example of the manner in which a people may rise out of seeminjy hopeless financial difficulties. 11cr debt was near $100 per head to every free white male over 20 years of agenearly equal to the value of a farm of 100 acres, at government price. For this enormous debt they had nothing to show, and they hesitated about taxing them- selves to pay their debt; b t through the operation of the increase of population, and in the val e of property, the burden is constantly becoming light. The population of Indiana in 1830, was 343,031; in 1840 it was 635,866, an increase of 100 per cent., or 10 per cent. per annum. As the increase in the Western states for each succeeding decade is in a descending ratio, we may place that of the 10 years ending in 1850 at 80 per cent., which would give a population of 1,234,578 persons, being an increase at the rate of eight per cent. per annum. Now it appears from the official statements of the Auditor, th t the taxable inhabitants increased in 1844, 4,274, and the number of acres subject to taxation, 558,381. Jo 1847, the taxable itihahitants increased 2,762. From these flicts it appc~rs, that simply from the number of tax payers and extent of land taxed, the weight of the debt must constantly decrease, even although the present property of the state should not increase in value, which, however, is not the case. The increase last year was as follows: 184 Financial and Comercial Review. [August7 1843. 1844. 1846. 1847, Real estate. - $89048864 91,52-1,958. 94,780,220 95,310,240 Personal 15,269,220 24,058,107~ - - - - - 27,869,334 29,247,820 Total 104,318,084 115, 80,065 122,649,854 124,558,060 In addition to this large increase, the State works are rapidly becoming productive7 particularly the Albany and Vincennes Road, and the Wabash and Erie Canal. A hill is before Congress to grant 800,000 acres of the finest land in Indiana for the completion of that portion of the Erie and Wabash Canal which connects with the White River. With this magnificent work completed., and at the command of 1,234,578 inhabitants7 possessing the finest soil in the world, the required taxes, 1,100,604, would be bnt a paltry sum for them to pay. This amount will, however, by that time, have been greatly diminished by the revenues of the public works, which last year amounted to near 40,000, and there is every possibility of their swelling sufliciently to pay half the interest. The people of Ohio in 1836, with a population of 1,000,0Q0, and property assessed at $85,812,000, paid$965,3 10 taxes. The assessments for the last two years in Indiana have been as follows 1846. 1847. State .$468,91795 460,67477 Town and Country. - - 473.788 82 562,671 20 Delinquencies 101,59801 127,258 47 Total $995,30478~. 1,100,60444 With re~pect to taxation in general, it is a recognized principle that the burden rests upon a compound ratio of wealth and population; as, for instance, the Indiana popula- tion was in 1840, 685,686, and amount of taxes required for her liabilities, say $685,000, or one dollar for each inhabitant. In 1850 the population will have doubled, conse- quently the taxes to produce the same amount -will be but 50 cents each. If now, in 1840, the nett income of the inhabitants is put at $50 each, after paying their tax there remained $49 to each person. If their profits do not increase at all up to 1840, there will remain $49 50 to each inhabitant after paying taxes. If, however, the distribution of wealth should increase 20 per cent. in the course of ten years, a very bw estimate, Ihen, in 1850, each inhabitant wotild have remaining $59 50, after paying his taxes. If the number of the inhabitants remains stationary, and the distribution of wealth increa- ses, the burden of the tax will be diminished. If the wealth remains stationary, and the numbers increase, the same result is produced. If, as is the case in Indiana, and other Western states, to a remarkable degree, both wealth and numbers increase, the burden of taxation decreases in a double ratio. Herein consists the difThrence between the debt of a state and of an individual. 1348.] Gossip of the Month. 135 GOSSIP OF TILE 1110 NTil. LYCEUM GALLERY.It is little dreamt that we have in our midst several painlings whose extraordinary value may be measured at once by the redoubtahle names of the great masters who have produced themTitian, Rubens. Murillo, Raphael. The pulse beats faster and the breath grows thicker of every true worshipper of art at bare mention of these High Priests, the divinity of whose genius has thrown over the temple where they administered a radiance which ages have not dimmed, and a halo which wilt fill the soul of the initiated for ages yet to come with awe and wonder. It is not to their technical skill alone, prodigious as it was, that such homage is due, nor to their handicraft which talent inspired and true taste guided, hut rather to that revelation of soul which in the eloquence and intensity of its expression raises the mind of the spectator from the material work he regards up to spiritual contempla- tions; from nature up to natures God. And herein consists the merit, the ability, the pur- pose of great works of art, which assailing the senses make prisoner of the most careless and rudest fancy, and thus refine and spiritualise thousands dead to all other softening influences. The masses which consume their daily strength in heavy labors seek recreation in hours of repose, and to them at such moments books or discourses offer no charm; nay, repel them by their dry, uninteresting and laborious details. But are these masses to he given up; aban- doned to the vulgar and debasing influence which in our country, unhappily, are the only re- source for the poor when freed from their daily tasks and abroad for pleasure? Look to it, philanthropy! legislate for it, patriotism! Endeavor to provide from motives of sympathy and safety such amusements for our lahoring population as will draw them away from gross and corrupting habits and inspire them with pure and elevating aspirations. C ~uch reflectious as these animated us as we wandered delighted around and around the Ly- ceum Gallery ahounding in works of consummate merit. Our admiraion and pleasure had only this drawback, that it was not shared by the thousands who passed it, debarred by the necessary obstacle of the price of admission? Why, we asked ourselves in wonder, does not our municipal government display its sagacity? Why does not one ofour~reat parties manifest a politic interest in hehalf of their constituents, by coming forward at once with a proposition to buy this rare collection of pictures and throw them open for public enjoyment? The shrewder ,,overuments of Europe have all over the Continent, as well as in En~land, readily and wisely adopted these easy means to conciliate popular good-will, and have voted enormhus sums of the public money for gorgeous galleries of art, which the people have most cheerfully, nay with acclamation contributed, hecause they knew it was something, at least, for their own benefit. We repeat our surprise that some sharp-si~hted tactician has not seized this simple chance of enhancing his reputation and doing a really sensible thing by bringing forward a proposition to buy the Lyceum Gallery, as the nucleus of a state gallery to be permanently established in the city of New-York. Nay, we marvel that in a city famous for the tact and dexterity of it~s commercial practitioners, that a society of merchants has not ere this heen formed for the purchase of this collection, that New-York may thus offer one solid claim the more to the curiosity of travellers and customers. The additional voyagers that would for these reasons give New-York a preference over all other rival markets, would, by the profit of these visits, pay for a dozen such collections. We care not what the motives are which are brought into requisition so the holy cause of art is advanced; that is all we seek and in a country where utility is, happily, the yrimum mobile, we address it in the lan~age of com- merce. But is this collection of the old masters really worth our money? inquires the bargainer in the cautious spirit of the mart. That is just what we propose to treat of in the very few words we deem necessary to add on this point. To those who are conversant with the works of the great masters we have already named, no proof of the originality and beauty of their produc- tions in the Lyceum Gallery whatever is wanting other than fie sight of then~. Incontestable evidence is there afforded of those master-touches which soar above imitation and defy tbe rust of time. There are few, however, who have made these ,,lorious paintings the subject of theit studies; and we are glad for the sake of art to have it in our power to quote the ripened jud

1348.] Gossip of the Month. 135 GOSSIP OF TILE 1110 NTil. LYCEUM GALLERY.It is little dreamt that we have in our midst several painlings whose extraordinary value may be measured at once by the redoubtahle names of the great masters who have produced themTitian, Rubens. Murillo, Raphael. The pulse beats faster and the breath grows thicker of every true worshipper of art at bare mention of these High Priests, the divinity of whose genius has thrown over the temple where they administered a radiance which ages have not dimmed, and a halo which wilt fill the soul of the initiated for ages yet to come with awe and wonder. It is not to their technical skill alone, prodigious as it was, that such homage is due, nor to their handicraft which talent inspired and true taste guided, hut rather to that revelation of soul which in the eloquence and intensity of its expression raises the mind of the spectator from the material work he regards up to spiritual contempla- tions; from nature up to natures God. And herein consists the merit, the ability, the pur- pose of great works of art, which assailing the senses make prisoner of the most careless and rudest fancy, and thus refine and spiritualise thousands dead to all other softening influences. The masses which consume their daily strength in heavy labors seek recreation in hours of repose, and to them at such moments books or discourses offer no charm; nay, repel them by their dry, uninteresting and laborious details. But are these masses to he given up; aban- doned to the vulgar and debasing influence which in our country, unhappily, are the only re- source for the poor when freed from their daily tasks and abroad for pleasure? Look to it, philanthropy! legislate for it, patriotism! Endeavor to provide from motives of sympathy and safety such amusements for our lahoring population as will draw them away from gross and corrupting habits and inspire them with pure and elevating aspirations. C ~uch reflectious as these animated us as we wandered delighted around and around the Ly- ceum Gallery ahounding in works of consummate merit. Our admiraion and pleasure had only this drawback, that it was not shared by the thousands who passed it, debarred by the necessary obstacle of the price of admission? Why, we asked ourselves in wonder, does not our municipal government display its sagacity? Why does not one ofour~reat parties manifest a politic interest in hehalf of their constituents, by coming forward at once with a proposition to buy this rare collection of pictures and throw them open for public enjoyment? The shrewder ,,overuments of Europe have all over the Continent, as well as in En~land, readily and wisely adopted these easy means to conciliate popular good-will, and have voted enormhus sums of the public money for gorgeous galleries of art, which the people have most cheerfully, nay with acclamation contributed, hecause they knew it was something, at least, for their own benefit. We repeat our surprise that some sharp-si~hted tactician has not seized this simple chance of enhancing his reputation and doing a really sensible thing by bringing forward a proposition to buy the Lyceum Gallery, as the nucleus of a state gallery to be permanently established in the city of New-York. Nay, we marvel that in a city famous for the tact and dexterity of it~s commercial practitioners, that a society of merchants has not ere this heen formed for the purchase of this collection, that New-York may thus offer one solid claim the more to the curiosity of travellers and customers. The additional voyagers that would for these reasons give New-York a preference over all other rival markets, would, by the profit of these visits, pay for a dozen such collections. We care not what the motives are which are brought into requisition so the holy cause of art is advanced; that is all we seek and in a country where utility is, happily, the yrimum mobile, we address it in the lan~age of com- merce. But is this collection of the old masters really worth our money? inquires the bargainer in the cautious spirit of the mart. That is just what we propose to treat of in the very few words we deem necessary to add on this point. To those who are conversant with the works of the great masters we have already named, no proof of the originality and beauty of their produc- tions in the Lyceum Gallery whatever is wanting other than fie sight of then~. Incontestable evidence is there afforded of those master-touches which soar above imitation and defy tbe rust of time. There are few, however, who have made these ,,lorious paintings the subject of theit studies; and we are glad for the sake of art to have it in our power to quote the ripened jud 186 Gossip of the Month. [August, ment of an authority equally competent and respectable. They have been deliberately exam- med by the most accomplished amateur-artist and conneisseur who has ever visited this coun- try,.Capt. Payne, lately of the English service, and the confidence placed in his judgment both in France, Germany and Italy by various individuals of the hi~best rank, who make their collections under his guidance, warrant all in reposin~ the most complete faith in his opinions. He guarantees in the most absolute terms the ori~inality of the paintings in the Lyceum Gal- lery of Raphael, Murillo, Titian, Vandyck. Rubens, not only from his profound knowledee of the style of these masters, but from his intimate acquaintance with these very works, whose history and previous ownership in Europe he perfectly knows. The only matter of astonish- ment with him, as it may well he with all others, is how it happens that such a collection, which even in times of disorder like the present in Europe would command exorbitant prices, should have found its way to this country. This mystery we confess ourselves altogether unable to solve; but the entire respectability of its proprietor satisfies us that the means em- ployed have been perfectly legitimate. We can only explain it by conjecturing that some sud- den necessity has compelled its former owner to part with these rare gems of art, and it is possible that pride may have induced himAo seek a secret sale and a foreign market. Be this as it may, we rejoice that such a gallery has found its way to our country; and the only ques- tion now should he how it may be disposed of in a way to serve art, refine taste, and promote the public enjoyment. We hope sincerely that it is not the fixed intention of its present owner to preserve this galiery for his private use, and in that case we would ur~e it strenuously on our city councils to lose no time in ascertaining its value, and making it, as we have already s%gested, a permanent object of attraction here. We are the more anxious and impatient on this point, as we have learnt that a movement is on foot to remove it to Washington; for we have lately been apprised on the best authority that a committee of Congress, composed of gentlemen of known taste and public spirit have, from the reputation of these paintiubs which is spreading rapidly over the country, determined on the propriety of suggesting their pur- chase to Congress, as the nucleus of a National Gallery of Art to be established at Washing- ton. We are struck with the extreme fitness of this proceeding, and doubt not that Con~ress will deem it perfectly unobjectionable; on the contrary, a very popular measure to endorse, for its whole object would be clearly the aratification of our citizens from all parts of the United States who are in the habit of visitin~ Washin~ton, and who would gladly see another and rarer attraction added to the sights of the city of magnificent distances, which has really little else beside to attract. If, then, our rich and public-spirited commtinity lose any time in seeking to retain this splendid collection of the great Masters, we shall probably hear at an early day of their transfer to Washington. JuLy has passed, or rather it will have passed ere these pages arc seen by our re~ (lers; for in order that the Review may reach them by the first of the month, we are obliged, in our Gossip with them, to omit to notice matters which occur during the last few days of the pre- ceding month. This may appear to some a very needless piecd of information; but we assure them that great numbers of the reading public, remote from cities, consider that a periodical publication, particularly a newspaper, is not only printed but written upon the very day whose date it bears. This is, of course, in a great measure true with retard to daily newspapers; but in respect to the weeklies no idea could be more mistaken. The weekly paper bears the date of Saturday, but it is delivered to many city subscribers on Friday, and is always ready for the mail on Thursday morning, and is therefore necessarily prepared for the press on Tues- day or Wednesday. Indeed, many of the papers professing to be published on Saturday, are actually printed on the previous Monday. This is but the simple truth, altho% h most,if not all of these papers contain notices of events, meetin~s, concerts, dramatic performances, and the like, which take place on the Thursday and Friday of the week of their publication. Row can this be done ? Exactly in the same way as a certain notorious daily journal in this city has repeatedly published notices of performances which did not take place. But why is it done ? Because of the absurd contempt so common among us for anytbin~ which is old- Events of a days age added to a literary paper ruin it for the market. Country readers are emi- aen~ly exacting on this point, and therefore it is that news-agents demand Saturdays paper on Thursday, that they may offer it to their customers on the day of its date; and the reader, b~ this contempt for that which is old, provides himself with that which is actually venerable, whereas, were he content to redeive en Monday a paper dated on the previous Saturday, and 1848.] Gossip of the ]JIonth. 187 prepared for press on Friday night, he would not be reading on Saturday a paper printed on the previous Monday, fondly deluding himself the while with the idea that he has a pape fresh from the press. Besides, he then could rely on what he read, which now, if he know the way in which some of these weeklies are published, he cannot. If, then, somebody should actually set the North River on fire during the last four or five days of any month, our read- ers must not think, because we do not ~ossip about it, that we are ignorant of the fact, or that we deem the conflagration of small importance but rather that havina prepared our lucubra- tions, or as a travelled Giend of ours has it, our lubrications, before the occurrence of the event, we did not speak of that which we did not know; and this even thouah the incendiary have notice of his intent and published a pro~rainme of his proceedings. Speaking of pro- rammes, did any one who saw the renowned Glance at New-York, or as the hhoys call it, for short, and par excellence The Glance, fail to laugh when SueEsv, wishin& the bill of fare at Vauxhall, a~ks for the Programme with the wittles on it ? July has not been without events of interest, even leaving out of consideration the leopard hunt and the dog massacre. The Mayors idea of abolishing the office of dog killer, and lea~- ing its functions to be discharged by the community at large, is eminently in keeping with the democratic spirit of the abe, and the event has shown how, even in the matter of dogs. private enterprise outstrips official duty. It only remains that the Common Council should, after the manner of the French National Assembly, resolve that the bhoys, the Anti-Hydrophobic Garde Llliobile of New-York have deserved well of their country The one circumstance to be regretted as connected with this affair, is the fearful depression which must inevitably take place in the sausage market. No one with the statistics of recent canine slaughter before his eves could be so fool-hardy as to purchase sausages. This reflection brings to mind the horrible revenge taken by a wag upon a pork seller who had offended him, and who was famed for the exceflence of his sausages. Enterina his shop on Saturday evening, when it was quite full of customers purchasing savory meat for the morrows dinner, the ruthless man approached the counter, and with a matter-of course, business-like air, threw down a dead cat, sayln~, That makes nineteen. Youre busy now, Ill call again for the money, and retired. In vain did the unhappy sausage-maker protest that he was utterly ignorant and innocent of the whole affair. Though to protest was a very aentlemanhike offer in the time of Juliets Nurse, it was now unavailing; the shop was deserted, and its keeper ever after mewed at by all the ragged urchins of the neighborhood. One event is always sure to happen in Julythat is, the celebration of the Natioi~s Birth- day, and we believe that never before has it been more generally or more joyfully commemo- rated than on this occasion. The brilliant success of our brave and magnanimous army in Mexico was a great and unwonted stimulus to rejoicing upon the recurrence of the day which more than all others brings to mind the victorious striig~les of our first armies. Our continued prosperity during the past year left no sad memorie~o dampen our joy; and the sad and por- tentous state of all other portions of the civilized- world, while it awakens our sympatlrt-, tends not a little to quicken our ardent thankfulness for the reasonable liberty, the sound con- stitution, and the wisely-planned institutions bequeathed to us by our great forefathers of the last century. But do not be alarmed reader; we have no intent to serve up to you a dish of patriotism and glory upon the strength of the Fourth of July. We shall stop short of the stars and stripes and the heroes of 7fi; we shall only express our entire concurrence in the opinion of the gentlemansaid to have been somewhat insanewho, being called upon for a senti- ment upon a 4th of July dinner, rose and gave : The way to celebrate Independence day is to go to the tavern and have something and make a noise. This gentleman, as we said, is thought somewhat insane; but could a ten column speech express more completely the man- ner in which most reasonable people think it proper to occupy themselves on the National An- niversary? That noise must he made by some one, all acknowleda 0; and the ugh one portion of the community goes out of town to get rid of the noise which another portion comes in town or stays in town to make, yet, were these last to keep away or remain quiet, the first would have something and make a noise to some purpose. And this going out of town to get rid of the noise is very often but a poor pretence. Few residences are so situated that the in- mates cannot pass the 4th in perfect quiet if they will but keep in the house. But they will 188 Gossip of the Month. [August, not. Rejoicing, sight-seeing, and noise-making, as well as having something, are conta- gious; and the desires of little John, James, and Mary to go and see the 4th of July are pro- nounced reasonable, and of course papa must go along. We see it noticed that the 4th, fifty years ago, was just as beautiful and as cool as it was this year, the thermometer standing all day at the somewhat remarkable number seventy-six. Some idea of the outward show of the 4th, half a century since, may be obtained from the fact that in this city but three hundred troops paraded on that day, and as good a conception of the spirit which animated some of them, from the story told by an eye-witness, that a company of these troops went, after parade, out of town to Rutaers fields, where Clinton-street now is, for the purpose of exercising. While there, one of the company had the hardihood to say something derogatory to the character of Gen. Washington: upon hearing which, another trooper, named MANsFiELDafterwards Col. MANsFiELDthrashed him soundly on the spot. The past 4tla was remarkably free from accidents, though these have been diminishing of late years. Time was, and not lona since, when accidents were considered so inevitable and liable to be so numerous, that the younger surgeons and older students attached as assistants to the Hospital remained in the building from the night of the 3d uiitil the morning of the 5th, and a messenger was in readiness to call upon the attending surgeon at any hour; capital operations having frequently been required on the instant and at midnight. The only accident of consequence of which we beard this year. was the double fracture of the thigh of JOHN INMAN, Jr., the oldest son of the great HENRY INStAN, from whom he inherited talents which promise to make him perhaps as eminent as his father. He was a hard student, and so griev- ous an accident may seriously retard his advancement. It was fitting that otir brave regiments and the bodies of some of their gallant officers should return to us at this time of national festivity; but it is not fitting that the indomitable courage and generous forbearance of the former should remain so utterly unrewarded unacknowledged as they are. The poor fellows have returned winners of bloody, hard-fought fields, and the captors of rich and well-defended cities; but, unlike the soldiery of any other nation or age, they have returned unenriched from battle and siege, for their much talked of revelling in the Halls of the Montezumas consisted in being called to parade at day-break without break- fast, after having been on guard all night without supper. Not only so, but they are in actual need of the comforts and necessaries of life, many of them with broken constitutions or muti- lated limbs, and yet nothing is done for them, and very little talk is there of doing anything. Shame! shame! But we hope and believe that this is but tempoi-ary apathy, and that before our next gossipping they will be both honored and cared for. Mr. Secretary MARCY however has already begun to care for them, or about them, and in a manner which will prove little acceptable. As our readers know, a large number of the pri- vates, and the officers almost universally, have returned either with their beard grown, but neatly trimmed, or with the English whisker and moustache, thus looking more like men and soldiers than when they went to the war. The most aallant field officers, the oldest and ablest generals, wore these marks of manhood and now, when they have just returned, tired of war s alarms, seeking comfort and qni* they are attacked by the head of the War Depart- ment in the tenderest point. Mr. MARcY has ordered them to cut off their moustaches. We expect to hear next that the chief of the Public Land Office has issued an order to the deer on the public domain that all the staas shall cut off their horns, and that Mr. Mayor HAVEMEYER has sent a very peremptory request to Messrs. RAYMOND & WELSH, of the Mena~erie, that their lions manes may be shaved close every naorning. The prejudice a~ainst the beard, given by nature as the peculiar ornament, and one of the chief outward visible distinctive si~ns of the male hunian, is one of the most unreasonable and unaccountable we ever heard of, and as a matter of course is violent and virulent in direct proportion to its want of founda- tion. What is most strange in it is, that the prejudice is strongestor rather has been, for it is very fast disappearingagainst the moustache, the first sign of manhood which appears. The chief reasons assigned for this dislike are, that moustaches are a foreign appendage, and that a beard has a barbarous appearance. Absurd reasons, and as untrue as absurd. We take the style of our dress, our equipages, our furnituie, our amusements, and oxen our etiquette of society from the French, and our coats, bonnets, carriages and sofas might be equally well attacked as foreign. But if these hair-hating patriots will but look at the portraits of our Pu- ritan, Huguenot, and Cavalier forefathers, they will find their faces well provided with the 1348.] Gossip of the Month. 189 manly heard. and in those whoare shaved at all, they will find that the moustache is left. As to the barbarism of beards, it has only been among sava~es and semi-barbarians that the custom of removing the beard has obtained any permanence. They have plucked out, burnt off, or cut away their beards from time immemorial; but the polished Greeks and Romans, the Ital- ians of Italys brightest days in arts, arms and literature, the Spaniards, the Germans, the French, and our ancestral En0lish, from their rise down to and past their golden age, have all worn beards. Shaved faces only made their appearance with other artificial, meretricious, and ridiculous fashions introduced in the co rupt courts of Louis XIV., the Re0ency, and Louis XV. of France. As soon as France had pur0ed herself of her loathsomeness by the horrors of her revolution, these fashions began to disappear and beards to resume their places. One other objection is brought against beards with a combination of seriousness and fun which makes it seem perteetly overwhelming; and a joke based upon it is always sure to set the pit of a theatre in convulsions of laughter: it is that they make a man look like a monkey or a goat. Unfortunately fur this, it is one of the chief distinctions between the man and the mon- key, that the man has a beard and the monkey has none. The monkey is well provided with hair on every part of his body and limbs, hut Nature, apparently conscious of the fearful simi- larity between men and monkeys, has left-the latter with smooth faces; yet men of late years un0ratefully remove their distinctive mark, and seem determined to prove the truth of Lord MoaBonDos opinion, that they are hut monkeys with their tails worn off. As to the poor 0oat, fool as he is thought, he has sense enough to leave his face as nature made it, and not to seek to improve upon her. As to the dandyisin of a heard, which sacrifices more to fashion, he who lets his beard grow as nature has made it, or he who, merely because other people do the same, daily spends and loses half an hour of pain and vexation in soapin0 and scrapin0 his face that he may make it unlik~r anythin,, ever created? for the face of a shaved man is neither that of man, woman, or child, as nature made them. Truly ladies who wish to do so, may worship their husbands without any violation of the second commandment, for they cer- tainly do not bear likeness to anything in the heavens above, the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth; saving always a tailless monkey, if such a thin0 there be. This reminds us of the reply of a youn,, bearded man to a senior, shaved to the eyelids, who asked him, with some asperity, why he wore all that hair on his face: I did not put it there, sir, and until one whom I think wiser than He who did, advises me to cut it off, I shall let it remain. The other did not attempt to answer the argument. It is old father CHAUCER, if we remember aright, who says, ~iWithonen hearde a manne lokes lyk a foole. Uniformity is ur,,ed as a good reason for the sacrifice of the moustache by the soldiery. A ,,ood reason in good sooth! Why does not the War Department decree that all under its or~ ders shall have the same hair, complexion, and noses of the same length and color? Would it not be hi,,hlv proper that the latter organ should be in all cases cut down to the re,,ulation standard? or better, perhaps, for fear of accidents, that it should be removed altogether. This would attain a smoothness of countenance and uniformity of appearance which would be per- fectly startling; one almost rivalling the equality advocated in one of the new clubs of Paris, established by Polickinellein English, Punchwho, ascending the tribune on the evening of the formation of the club, demanded with great vehemence that hereafter all citizens shall be of the same age and the same sex. Poor France! her misguided mob, in their strife for equality, forget liberty and fraternity. We were too ready with our congratulations on the establishment of a republic; at least we might have delayed our official ,,reetings until there was some stability to furnish the subject of congratulation. The recent insurrection and dictatorship puts our chief legislative body, Congress, which was so ready to send con,,ratulations to Paris, in rather an unpleasant posi- tion, and it must heartily wish that it had listened to the deprecating voice of that astute states- man, JOHN C. CALHOUN, whose democracy is undoubted, when he begged that there mi,,ht be a little delay in the proffer of fraternal sympathy, until we knew whether any ,,overnment was established, and what kind of a government it was. One of the most horrible features of the late insurrection is the brutal conduct of the women connected with it. So it will ever be with woman when she unsexes herself; she attains a pitch of cruelty amid brmmtahity which man cannot even emulate. So it was in the revolution of 1793; the deeds of the peiss .r a of that day make the horrors of the ,,uillotine seem trifling. 190 Gossip of the Month. [August, Of the two women who at this insurrection mounted the barricades and led on the mob, both were young, and one was beautiful and tastefully dressed. This makes her acts and her fate seem yet more dreadful; so much does beauty, combined with feminine tastes and the graces of the toilet, enlist our sympathies, even command our respect. Poor women! they probably had never heard that, Whistlin girls and crowin hens Never comes to no good ends. This is one of the old proverbs a ~hich always was and always will be true. The weather continued so cold and wet until the latter part of July, that many more than usual of those who are able to leave town, remained; but while we are writing, the weather ts so hot, and has such an air of determination about it, that all who can, will fly to the country or to watering places, if it be but for a short time. Indeed, the weather is such that we would call it dog-days, but the canine slauahter precludes the use of such a phrase. This year at least it is not true that every do~ must have his day. But whether the summers be warna or cool, every one should 1leave toavn during some few days, if not in search of coo/drwhy should ave not say coolth as well as warmth ?in search of a change of air, which is absolutely necessary to the avell being of every man. The health of every one, the laboring man or the studious, avill suffer if he neglect this, no matter how prudent his life or how re~ular his exer- cise. lie will find lassitude enervating his mind and enchainina his body. Both body and soul seem to need the fillip administered by a complete change of air, water and scene, it is fact ascertained by observation on the lower classes in London, that marriages between apparently healthy persons, who themselves, and whose ancestors for two generations have not left the city, are invariably childless. People in general need the invi~oration of the country as much as poets are supposed to, and do; thou~h there cannot be a greater mistake than to stippose that poets write descrip- tions of rural scenery while they are rusticating. They receive impressions there to which they afterwards recur; but ave feel well assured that nine out of ten pastoral poems were written in the city ;that is, save WoanawoaTHs, avho appears to have exiled himself to Rydal to write poetry from a sense of duty. The effect of this compulsion is visible in many of his poems. But even he acknowled~es that rural scenery leads the poet to the contempla- tion of avlrat he has observed of men in cities. How else can be explained hi, lines ?we quote from memory and may not be exact One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. No; poets, like all other mortals, a0 into the country to walk, ride, hunt, fish, and bathe. indeed, we are not quite sure but that poets in general would like to take even their salt bath- u.~ in a house; to have a little sea brou~ht up to their room in a tub, instead of plunging into great, black waves with foaming crests. Apropos of bathing ; we are quite sure that our read- ers have not beard of the manner in which a very proper Connecticut ladyunmarried, as all very proper Connecticut ladies should begot out of a predicament in speaking of her trip to Neavport. She said that she was afraid of the water, and used to stand very close to the shore; but one day there came a bi~ breaker which she could not get away from, and so she was obli~ed toto she stumbled and stammered, it was impossible to be guilty of the im- propriety of saying to duck herself all over, and so she said toto humerse her whole system. The alternate rain and heat have caused tlse theatres avhich are open to be thinly attended. the Bowery Theatre is an exception to this. Here MARY TAvr~oa has been drawing crowded houses in the Naiad Queen, and a most substantial naiad she is. At the Broadway Theatre the very clever MONPLAt5SR5 have been some-what successful in spite of the season. Mons. and Madame MoNsnArsta are well matched in person, expression ~nd style; they even have, either by nature or from practice together, a striking similarity of movement. They are remarkably strong and agile, both having a capacity for the most as- tonishing tours deforec, and this they putto continual proof. In sprightliness and abandon they ave had hut one superior among the dancers who have visited us, and thoti~h not re 1848.] Goss~p of the Month. 191 markable for grace they are not deficient in it. Madames sweep of limb is enormous, consid- ering her extremely petite fi~ ire; when she enters she takes half the stage at a hound, and the quickness of her movements is almost hewilderin~. Nons. MONsr.Ai5iE seems to us more f~nished than Madame and to lack some faults which she has. llisposes are finer and taken with more certainty. In his startling leaps he, in mid air, throws himself into new and grace- ful attitudes, and upon touching the stage recovers his first position with precision and ease. Indeed, so great and so long-continued are his leaps that he seems, Antaeus-like, to acquire new stren0th when he touches the earth. In the midst of the most hewilderin0 evolutions he stays himself on the instant and stands fixed, firmly, unwavering and unpantin~. But we con- fess that we have a thorough contempt for the dancing of men. While engaged in it they seem utterly out of place. In fact a man gains nothing in brace hy dancing. If he walk well he is as graceful as he can be, more raceful than anythin~ else can he; whereas woman having the centre of gravity of the body relatively hinher and the feet comparatively smaller, than in man, is obliged to sway the figure from side to side to keep the centre within the hase, and thus her walk acquires that undulating motion which is so attractive, and which is heia ht - ened and developed in the dance. The dancing of the MoxiLAlsIas is altogether wantina in sentiment and their pantomime very inexpressive. But the pantomime of N. BART 01,0. iN, their ballet master~ is so piquant with meanin~,that it tempts us to believe that the old Roman mime would have won his waner when he offered to bet with the ~reat orator that he could express a passion more effectively with gestures than the other with words. At Nia LOS, charming Rosa TELaIN has been more charming than ever, always savingwhen she has appeared in The Widows Victim, which invariably makes a victim of every one with- in hearin~. The LEanaANSwould it iiot be better grammar to say LEMMEN ?liave so pleased what audiences they have had that we wonder they have not had larger. ADELAIDE LEHMAN has perhaps the prettiest fia ire ever seen on our sta~e, and youn~ as she is, ranks next to BLANGY as a danseuse of talent. When she has the years and practice of Mad. MON. PLAIsIE she will take high rank in the ballet. The musical people who have remained in town have had a novel pleasure in the perform- ances of M. and Mad. nHua LAaoEaE, who have appeared at NiaLos in scenes from French Operas. They are both artists of acknowledged merit abroad, Madame particularly. M. LA- aoana appeared in the principal scenas from La Juive and Guillaume Tell, giving us French- tra0ic music in the most ambitious French-tranic style. He is in person, manner, style, and even dress, a copy of I)UPEEZ. His voice is a hi0h tenor, of that hard, throaty quality, so common to the Frcnch lyric stage. His style and method are both of the very best French schoolby no means the best schooland his declamation at times very appropriate and mov- big. The great drawback to his success is the evident labor with which he sings, his high note. appear to be painfully wrung from his throat. Madame LABOEDE, though not a beautiful woman, captivates all are she has uttered a note. Glossy black hair tastefully arranged, brilliant brown eyes under perfect command, an ex- pressive mouth, an arch smile and a charming toilette, enable her to do this. Her figure is plump to a degree. She fills to repletion her ample boddice, in fact quite runs it over. She is more than twenty-five, not thirty, and her voice is fresh, full, clear, sympathetic, and flexi- ble beyond that of any other prima donna who has visited us save CINTI-DAMOEEAIJ and Mad- ame BIsaloP. Indeed, she is Madame Bisnoe with a voice of more thoronab training. Her vocalization is marvellously easy; the accentuation, and light and shade with which she marks oerftorituri and scale passa~es show an exquisite taste, and long and judicious practice. Her facility tempts her sometimes to do admirably well that which had better be left altogether undone, in spite of the applause it awakens. We are glad to hear that the LAHoanas are en. gaged by Mr. HAMBLIN for the Park Theatre, where we are also to have the new tragic star of the English stage and MACEEADY, who is comma over here with his family to reside. 192 Notices of New Books. NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE CZAR: His COTJRT AND PEOPLE, including a Tour in Norway and Sweden: By John S. Maxwell. Baker & Scribner, 145 Nassau-st. But little has heen known to us of the people who with their father constitute the great power enshrouded in the snows of the North, whose policies, views, and strength now lower so gloomily and mysteriously over the destinies of Europe. The spec:ator can scarcely put his finger upon a map of Europe and say, out of the boundaries of Russia tranquility reigns here. All countries are in commotion, and the people or governments of each have made some demonstration in accordance with the spirit of the age. Russia alone remains untouched by civil progress; and while each nation is torn with internal dissensions, nothing is heard froii Russia but that her countless columns are in motion from the remotest recesses, and pointing towards her European frontier, form a curtain behind which all is dark and terrible. The work of Mr. Maxwell is a most welcome publication at such a juncture. It by far exceeds that of the German traveller Kohl in matter that will interest the American. It is graphic in description, and takes a clear, practical view of men and things, and the reader rises from its perusal with the conviction that much has been added to his stock of information. SoPlisats OF THE PROTECTIVE PoLicy. Translated from the French of F. Bastiat. With an introduction by Francis Lieher, LLD., Professor in South Carolina College, Editor of the Encyclopedia Americana, & c., & c. l2mo. G. P. Putnam, 155 Broadway. The great principles of Free Trade are strongly and clearly enunciated in this admirable work of M. Bastiat. Their truth has at last penetrated into the gloom of France, whose mise- rable, i~norant, and starving people afford an apt illustration of the unmitigated evils that flow from a paternal government with its protective theories. M. Bastiat has (lone much to extend the republican principle of Free Trade in France, and his work should be in the hands of all. He truly says that when men have not made themselves familiar with the principles of free trade, the sophisms of protection continually recur under one form or another. EUREKA: A PROSE POEM, Or the Phvscal and Metaphysical Universe. By Ed~ar A. Poe, Esq. Handsomely printed, l2mo., cloth. 75 cts. G. P. Putnam. Mr. Poe is too well and favorably known, not only to the reading public of this country hut of England. to make an extended notice of his peculiar excellence at all necesary here. The work now published by Mr. Putnam wiJI doubtless be readily sought, as well by the admirers of Mr. Poe as by the public at large. AN ALPHABETICAL INOEx to sWeets treated in Reviews and other Periodicals, to which no indexes have been published. Prepared for the library of the Brothers in Unity, Yale Col- lege. New-York: Geo. P. Putnam, late Wiley & Putnam, 155 Broadway. The title of this work at once suggests its great value to those having access to libraries, as well as those who possess series of the Reviews, American and English. The above works are elegantly got up by the enterprising publisher, Mr. George P. Putnam, long favorahly known to the literary world as one of the firm of Wiley & Putnam, now of 155 Broadway, New York. Mr. Putnam announces to the public a new, unitbrm, and complete edition of the works of Washi%ton Irving, revised and enlarged by the author, in twelve ele- gant doodecimo volumes. The first volume of the Series will he The Sketch Book, complete in one volume, which will be ready on the fisrt day of September. Knickerbockers History of New-York, with revisions and copious additions, will be published on the 1st of October. THE ILLUSTRATED SKETcI-BooE.-In October will be published The Sketch-Book- by Washington Irving. One volume square octavo, illustrated with a series of ht~hly-finished Engravings on wood, from desiens by Darley and others, engraved in the best style by Childs, Herrick, & c. This edition will he printed on paper of the finest quality, similar in size and style to the new edition of Hatlecks Poems It is intended that the illustrations shall be superior to any engravings on wood yet produced in this country, and that the mechanical exe- cution of the volume, altogether, shall be worthy the authors repetation. It will form an ele- gant and appropriate gift-book for all seasons. The new works of Mr. Irving are also announced as nearly ready. Mr. Putnam thus com- mences his new course at the top of American (if we do not say English)- literature, and his enterprise will doubtless be appreciated by the public.

THE UNITED STATES MAGAZINE, AND DEMOCRATIC REVIEW. ~oL XXIII. SEPTEMBER, 1848. No. CXXIII. ~FERRITORIAL GOVERNIENT.* AMONG the singular anomalies in the working of our system of gover - ment, that present themselves to those who observe the practice while con- templating the theory, the mode of governing the colonies is certainly the most glaring. Our whole system and the genius of our institutions, are based on the principle of self-government, in the states-right rule of construc- tion. Yet, in relation to the territories, or more properly speaking, the co!- onies of the country, the practice is one of the grossest despotism. There is no country in Europe where the people at this moment do not enjoy as potent an influence in their governments as do the free-born citizens of the United States located upon the public domains. Accordingly, as similar re- sults flow from like causes, while all countries of Europe are convulsed by the efforts of the people to enhance the influence of the popular voice itt the governments, creating strife from the efforts of the rulers to thwart the popular wishes, the most dangerous political combination in this country de- pends entirely upon the contentions of distant parties as to what local laws shall be forced upon a remote people. From this assumption of power by existing authorities, and the attempting to do through officers depending upon central patronage, that which should 1e left entirely to the popular will of the localities, to be executed by officers elected by the people among whom the duties are to be performed, flow almost all the evils th t have attended our political history thus far. There is no doubt but that the Constitution contemplated the universality of self-government upon this continent, as well among the people in the states as among those wh should inhabit territories. Accordingly that instrument gave to Congress no power to legislate for territories. In article IV, section 3, Congress as power to dispose of and make all needful rules and regulations respecting the territories or otker properties belonging to the United States. This power is clear, and involves no legislative rights; it applies simply to the right to survey, erect land offices, fix prices and terms of sale of the mere land as property, without any reference to the government of the people who An Act to establish the Territorial Governments of Oregon, California and New Mexico. Approved August 1848. VOL. XXIJJ.NO. CIXIJI. 1 190 Territorial Go?ernment~ [September are to buy it. It has been contended, however, by the faction seceding from the Democratic party, that the peeple of the territories are the property of the Union, and to be governed by rules under this clause. While contending for the rights of blacks, the free soil men utterly deny the rights of whites in those localities to construct their own local laws. In relation to legislation the 8th section of Article I. grants the power of exclusive legislation in all cases over all places (or territories) acquired for public purposes by cession of particular states. This power, as in the case of dock-yards and the District of Columbia, is exercised; but it does not appear that the Constitution contemplated, in any respect, the despotic power which is now exercised with almost unquestioned sway over the peo- ple inhabiting territories. On the other hand, the express grant of legisla- tive power over 1)laces ceded for public purposes7 implies the non-existence of that power in respect of territories generally. It is to be remarked that where unlimited and despotic power exists, two interests are concerned. I st. There are the oppressed people submitting to laws, in the formation of which they have had little or no voice, and obeying a power emanating front a source over which they have no control. 2d. There are the officials am pointed and paid by that power and the dependants on their patronage. hi the case of new territories, the disadvantages of foreign laws, and the presence of executive officers appointed by the central government have been submit- ted to, because it has generally been the case that a few emigrants, occupy- ing land erected Into a territory, have had the advantage of drawing from the federal treasury the means of paying the legislature, while grants of money for territorial government, and the salaries of the officers appointed by the federal government expended among them, have been a source of profit to the territory at large, as v~ell as of emolument to the immediate holders of the offices. Phe law lately passed in relation to the Oregon ter- ritory, affords an apt illustration of the manner in which the public purse has been called on to enrich ne~v territories, at the expense of the tax pay- ers of the old states, through the medium of executive patronage; and the colonizing of tracts of new land has more than once been but a means of deriving patronage from the federal government. In the case of Oregon, a number of hardy and enterprising men left the old states, crossed the moun- tains, and, braving every danger, descended into the valley of the Wil- lamette to erect their future homes. These men, it is to be presumed, en- countered those perils and hardships in the view to better their worldly con- dition. They left the old states, where they enjoyed the right of self-gov- ernment, and where they were liable to the expenses of the execution of laws of their own making, but did not therefore forfeit the right of franchise. In a few years the numbers of the new settlers reached some 8000, as many as form the population of many thriving towns in the old states, which govern themselves by their own local laws. Instead of governing themselves in the same manner as they would have done had they remained at home, they call upon the federal government to give them laws, and this is done in the mari- ner described in the act before us; but the ri,,ht to do it may wel be ques- tioned. This provides that the governor shall cause a census to be taken, the territory divided into districts, and the apportionment of represen- tatives made equally. From all these districts there shall be twenty-six representatives, elected by popular vote, to constitute the Ilouse, and thir- teen members to constitute a Council. These thirty-nine members are tc~ receive $3 per day each during a session, and $3 for every twenty miles of travel to and from their homes to the place of meeting. Their salaries and mileage to be paid by the federal government. Presiding o~er these two houses is a governor appointed by the President of the Un ted states, to re 1848~] Territorial Government. 191 ceive from the federal treasury $1,500 per annum as governor, and $1,500 as superintendent of Indian Affairs. The judiciary is to consist of three judges, drawing $1,800 each per annum from the federal treasury. There is to be a secretary at $1,800 per annum, a delegate to the national Congress at $8.00 per day and mileage, say together $3,500 per annum. There is to be $1,000 per annum placed at the control of the governor for contingent ex- penses of the territory. These sums make together near 24,000 to be paid from the federal treasury to the 8,000 colonists in Oregon, being about $15 per head of a family. In addition to this, as an out-fit, $20,000 is granted for a seat of government, $5,000 for a library, and $10,000 for pres- ents to Indian tribes and to defray expenses of news to Washington; to- gether $60,000, or about $37,50 each head of a family is to be paid from the federal treasury to the Oregon emigrants for the first year, and $24,000 per annum annually thereafter. But they may increase the number of the territorial members beyond thirty-nine, which will increase the amount to be paid by the citizens of the old states. By what right does Congress expend the public money collected by taxa- tion from old states, in thus granting bounties for the settlement of new lands, for this mode of organizing territories is nothing more? The govern- ment has not received a dollar from Oregon lands, and it grants what is equal to the proceeds of 50,000 acres for the first year, and 20,000 acres per annum thereafter. This is really what is meant by giving a government to Oregon, viz, to enrich the colony at the expense of the old states. The same system has always been pursued in relation to the territories, and it has been one of unmixed evil. The persons appointed to fill the higher offices have in many cases been intriguing and corrupt politicians, who have carried into the new territories their experience of, and taste for those corrupt practices, by which the federal treasury has been but the means of rewarding the most unscrupulous partizanship. The demoralizing conse- quence of this monarchical form of government for a young community is~ but little relieved by the fact, that the local legislature elected by the people can pass laws subject to the approval of Congress. If the legis lature of a state has sufficient sense to pass local laws, why may not that of a territory? There have been examples in our republican territories at various times, when the sole and entire power, legislatii~e, judicial and exe- cutive, vested in one man, forming a despotism as absolute as that of the Czar. The power claimed by Congress over the territories is entirely abso- lute, and has been frequently exercised to the making void laws passed by the legislature elected by the people and signed by the governor, as in the case of Florida, as an instance. In 1822 the l~gislature of that territory passed a law authorizing the governor to borrow 5,000 on the faith of the territory~ This was, by act of Congress in March, 1822, declared null aid void, as was also a law establishing county courts. The ri~ht of the l)eo- pIe in territories to govern themselves in any way, without the direct sanc- tion and interference of Congress, has scarcely been asserted at all; and con~ sequently, without any powers derivable from the constitution in relation to the matter, Congress has been in the habitual exercise of a power in rela- tion to our colonies, more oppressive than that of Great Britain towards her dependencies; and it has become a familiar expression that Congress confers upon the people of the territory the rigiLt to elect members of assembly, as if the right of the popular government was dependent upon a law, Judge MLean, as an instance, in a letter relating to the Buffalo Convention,. remarks: Resting upon the principles of the cohstitution, as they have been judicially settled, the free states, by moderation, vigilance and firmness, may prevent th, 192 Territorial Government~ [September~, extension of slavery to the free territory lately annexed. Without the sanction of law, slavery can no more exist in a territory than a man can breathe without air. Slaves are not property where they are not made so by the municipal law. The legislature of a territory can exercise no power which is not conferred it by act of Congress. If it is wrong for a people themselves to submit to the usurpation of a go~ vernment, it s equally wrong for them to attempt to domineer over another people. The principle of self-government can in no way be violated without injuring as ~vell the oppressor as the oppressed. It is a remarkable fact, that the only occasion on which serious difficulties now spring up between par-~ ties threatening the stability of the Union, have been based solely upon this local legislation for distant people, or what may be called, the imperial legislation of Congress. The strife is between parties uninterested as to what local laws they shall pass for other people without asking their assent. If the right of those people to make their own laws was recognised, all difficulty would cease. All parties in the Union agree that the institution of slavery depends upon local law, and that the people of the several localities in the states have alone the right to make those local laws; and yet, as soon as a purely municipal matter presents itself in the territories, parties to the federal Union begin to quarrel as to what Io~al laws they shall make through the instrumentality of Congress for the people in the new locality. Thus Mr. Webster, in a late speech, states the matter as follows The Southern states have peculiar laws, and by th se laws there is pi-opmiy in slaves. This is purely local. The real meaning then, of Southern gentleman, in making this eomplaint is, that they cannot go into the territorie of the United States, carryin, with them their awn peculiar local lawa law wh& h creates property ib persons. This, according to their own statement, is all the ground of complaint they have. Now here, I think, gentlemen are unjust toward us~ How unjust they are others will judgegenerations that will come after us wiYl judge. It will not be contended that this sort of personal slavery exists by general law. It exists only by local law. I do not mean to deny the validity of the local law where it is established; but it is, after all, nothing but 1 cal law. It is nothing more. And wherever that local law does not extend, property in persons does net exist~ Well, sir, what is now the demand on the part of our Southern friends? They say, We will carry our local laws with us wherever we go~ We insist that Gon~ grcss does us inj stice unless it establishes in the territory into which we wish to go, our own local laws. This demand I, for one, resist, nd shall resist. It goes upon the idea that there is an inequality, unless persons under this local law, and hold- ing property by authority of that law, can go into new territory and there estal. lisli that local la~v, to the exclusion of other laws. If a majority of the people in the new territories choose to institute those local laws, why should they not? On what grounds can the right of the people of a new territory be denied the right common to all other people on the continent of making their own local laws? To assert that they cannot, is to assert that they are as much slaves as the blacks held in bondage;. and yet this despotic power is that claimed for Congress in its relation to new territories. While members exerted themselves to prevent the in~ sertion of a principle in relation to black slaves in the Oregon bill, they passed the following in relation to the white inhabitants of that country: All the laws passed by the legislative assembly, shall be submitted to the Con.- gress of the states, and if disapproved, shall be null and reid. This is not an idle form, inasmuch as we have seen Congress, on more than on one occasion, step in, and, with absolute power, annul the will of the whole people, as expressed in a law passed by their d6legates. Such persons are slaves themselves. What is claimed for the people of the~

192 Territorial Government~ [September~, extension of slavery to the free territory lately annexed. Without the sanction of law, slavery can no more exist in a territory than a man can breathe without air. Slaves are not property where they are not made so by the municipal law. The legislature of a territory can exercise no power which is not conferred it by act of Congress. If it is wrong for a people themselves to submit to the usurpation of a go~ vernment, it s equally wrong for them to attempt to domineer over another people. The principle of self-government can in no way be violated without injuring as ~vell the oppressor as the oppressed. It is a remarkable fact, that the only occasion on which serious difficulties now spring up between par-~ ties threatening the stability of the Union, have been based solely upon this local legislation for distant people, or what may be called, the imperial legislation of Congress. The strife is between parties uninterested as to what local laws they shall pass for other people without asking their assent. If the right of those people to make their own laws was recognised, all difficulty would cease. All parties in the Union agree that the institution of slavery depends upon local law, and that the people of the several localities in the states have alone the right to make those local laws; and yet, as soon as a purely municipal matter presents itself in the territories, parties to the federal Union begin to quarrel as to what Io~al laws they shall make through the instrumentality of Congress for the people in the new locality. Thus Mr. Webster, in a late speech, states the matter as follows The Southern states have peculiar laws, and by th se laws there is pi-opmiy in slaves. This is purely local. The real meaning then, of Southern gentleman, in making this eomplaint is, that they cannot go into the territorie of the United States, carryin, with them their awn peculiar local lawa law wh& h creates property ib persons. This, according to their own statement, is all the ground of complaint they have. Now here, I think, gentlemen are unjust toward us~ How unjust they are others will judgegenerations that will come after us wiYl judge. It will not be contended that this sort of personal slavery exists by general law. It exists only by local law. I do not mean to deny the validity of the local law where it is established; but it is, after all, nothing but 1 cal law. It is nothing more. And wherever that local law does not extend, property in persons does net exist~ Well, sir, what is now the demand on the part of our Southern friends? They say, We will carry our local laws with us wherever we go~ We insist that Gon~ grcss does us inj stice unless it establishes in the territory into which we wish to go, our own local laws. This demand I, for one, resist, nd shall resist. It goes upon the idea that there is an inequality, unless persons under this local law, and hold- ing property by authority of that law, can go into new territory and there estal. lisli that local la~v, to the exclusion of other laws. If a majority of the people in the new territories choose to institute those local laws, why should they not? On what grounds can the right of the people of a new territory be denied the right common to all other people on the continent of making their own local laws? To assert that they cannot, is to assert that they are as much slaves as the blacks held in bondage;. and yet this despotic power is that claimed for Congress in its relation to new territories. While members exerted themselves to prevent the in~ sertion of a principle in relation to black slaves in the Oregon bill, they passed the following in relation to the white inhabitants of that country: All the laws passed by the legislative assembly, shall be submitted to the Con.- gress of the states, and if disapproved, shall be null and reid. This is not an idle form, inasmuch as we have seen Congress, on more than on one occasion, step in, and, with absolute power, annul the will of the whole people, as expressed in a law passed by their d6legates. Such persons are slaves themselves. What is claimed for the people of the~

192 Territorial Government~ [September~, extension of slavery to the free territory lately annexed. Without the sanction of law, slavery can no more exist in a territory than a man can breathe without air. Slaves are not property where they are not made so by the municipal law. The legislature of a territory can exercise no power which is not conferred it by act of Congress. If it is wrong for a people themselves to submit to the usurpation of a go~ vernment, it s equally wrong for them to attempt to domineer over another people. The principle of self-government can in no way be violated without injuring as ~vell the oppressor as the oppressed. It is a remarkable fact, that the only occasion on which serious difficulties now spring up between par-~ ties threatening the stability of the Union, have been based solely upon this local legislation for distant people, or what may be called, the imperial legislation of Congress. The strife is between parties uninterested as to what local laws they shall pass for other people without asking their assent. If the right of those people to make their own laws was recognised, all difficulty would cease. All parties in the Union agree that the institution of slavery depends upon local law, and that the people of the several localities in the states have alone the right to make those local laws; and yet, as soon as a purely municipal matter presents itself in the territories, parties to the federal Union begin to quarrel as to what Io~al laws they shall make through the instrumentality of Congress for the people in the new locality. Thus Mr. Webster, in a late speech, states the matter as follows The Southern states have peculiar laws, and by th se laws there is pi-opmiy in slaves. This is purely local. The real meaning then, of Southern gentleman, in making this eomplaint is, that they cannot go into the territorie of the United States, carryin, with them their awn peculiar local lawa law wh& h creates property ib persons. This, according to their own statement, is all the ground of complaint they have. Now here, I think, gentlemen are unjust toward us~ How unjust they are others will judgegenerations that will come after us wiYl judge. It will not be contended that this sort of personal slavery exists by general law. It exists only by local law. I do not mean to deny the validity of the local law where it is established; but it is, after all, nothing but 1 cal law. It is nothing more. And wherever that local law does not extend, property in persons does net exist~ Well, sir, what is now the demand on the part of our Southern friends? They say, We will carry our local laws with us wherever we go~ We insist that Gon~ grcss does us inj stice unless it establishes in the territory into which we wish to go, our own local laws. This demand I, for one, resist, nd shall resist. It goes upon the idea that there is an inequality, unless persons under this local law, and hold- ing property by authority of that law, can go into new territory and there estal. lisli that local la~v, to the exclusion of other laws. If a majority of the people in the new territories choose to institute those local laws, why should they not? On what grounds can the right of the people of a new territory be denied the right common to all other people on the continent of making their own local laws? To assert that they cannot, is to assert that they are as much slaves as the blacks held in bondage;. and yet this despotic power is that claimed for Congress in its relation to new territories. While members exerted themselves to prevent the in~ sertion of a principle in relation to black slaves in the Oregon bill, they passed the following in relation to the white inhabitants of that country: All the laws passed by the legislative assembly, shall be submitted to the Con.- gress of the states, and if disapproved, shall be null and reid. This is not an idle form, inasmuch as we have seen Congress, on more than on one occasion, step in, and, with absolute power, annul the will of the whole people, as expressed in a law passed by their d6legates. Such persons are slaves themselves. What is claimed for the people of the~

192 Territorial Government~ [September~, extension of slavery to the free territory lately annexed. Without the sanction of law, slavery can no more exist in a territory than a man can breathe without air. Slaves are not property where they are not made so by the municipal law. The legislature of a territory can exercise no power which is not conferred it by act of Congress. If it is wrong for a people themselves to submit to the usurpation of a go~ vernment, it s equally wrong for them to attempt to domineer over another people. The principle of self-government can in no way be violated without injuring as ~vell the oppressor as the oppressed. It is a remarkable fact, that the only occasion on which serious difficulties now spring up between par-~ ties threatening the stability of the Union, have been based solely upon this local legislation for distant people, or what may be called, the imperial legislation of Congress. The strife is between parties uninterested as to what local laws they shall pass for other people without asking their assent. If the right of those people to make their own laws was recognised, all difficulty would cease. All parties in the Union agree that the institution of slavery depends upon local law, and that the people of the several localities in the states have alone the right to make those local laws; and yet, as soon as a purely municipal matter presents itself in the territories, parties to the federal Union begin to quarrel as to what Io~al laws they shall make through the instrumentality of Congress for the people in the new locality. Thus Mr. Webster, in a late speech, states the matter as follows The Southern states have peculiar laws, and by th se laws there is pi-opmiy in slaves. This is purely local. The real meaning then, of Southern gentleman, in making this eomplaint is, that they cannot go into the territorie of the United States, carryin, with them their awn peculiar local lawa law wh& h creates property ib persons. This, according to their own statement, is all the ground of complaint they have. Now here, I think, gentlemen are unjust toward us~ How unjust they are others will judgegenerations that will come after us wiYl judge. It will not be contended that this sort of personal slavery exists by general law. It exists only by local law. I do not mean to deny the validity of the local law where it is established; but it is, after all, nothing but 1 cal law. It is nothing more. And wherever that local law does not extend, property in persons does net exist~ Well, sir, what is now the demand on the part of our Southern friends? They say, We will carry our local laws with us wherever we go~ We insist that Gon~ grcss does us inj stice unless it establishes in the territory into which we wish to go, our own local laws. This demand I, for one, resist, nd shall resist. It goes upon the idea that there is an inequality, unless persons under this local law, and hold- ing property by authority of that law, can go into new territory and there estal. lisli that local la~v, to the exclusion of other laws. If a majority of the people in the new territories choose to institute those local laws, why should they not? On what grounds can the right of the people of a new territory be denied the right common to all other people on the continent of making their own local laws? To assert that they cannot, is to assert that they are as much slaves as the blacks held in bondage;. and yet this despotic power is that claimed for Congress in its relation to new territories. While members exerted themselves to prevent the in~ sertion of a principle in relation to black slaves in the Oregon bill, they passed the following in relation to the white inhabitants of that country: All the laws passed by the legislative assembly, shall be submitted to the Con.- gress of the states, and if disapproved, shall be null and reid. This is not an idle form, inasmuch as we have seen Congress, on more than on one occasion, step in, and, with absolute power, annul the will of the whole people, as expressed in a law passed by their d6legates. Such persons are slaves themselves. What is claimed for the people of the~

192 Territorial Government~ [September~, extension of slavery to the free territory lately annexed. Without the sanction of law, slavery can no more exist in a territory than a man can breathe without air. Slaves are not property where they are not made so by the municipal law. The legislature of a territory can exercise no power which is not conferred it by act of Congress. If it is wrong for a people themselves to submit to the usurpation of a go~ vernment, it s equally wrong for them to attempt to domineer over another people. The principle of self-government can in no way be violated without injuring as ~vell the oppressor as the oppressed. It is a remarkable fact, that the only occasion on which serious difficulties now spring up between par-~ ties threatening the stability of the Union, have been based solely upon this local legislation for distant people, or what may be called, the imperial legislation of Congress. The strife is between parties uninterested as to what local laws they shall pass for other people without asking their assent. If the right of those people to make their own laws was recognised, all difficulty would cease. All parties in the Union agree that the institution of slavery depends upon local law, and that the people of the several localities in the states have alone the right to make those local laws; and yet, as soon as a purely municipal matter presents itself in the territories, parties to the federal Union begin to quarrel as to what Io~al laws they shall make through the instrumentality of Congress for the people in the new locality. Thus Mr. Webster, in a late speech, states the matter as follows The Southern states have peculiar laws, and by th se laws there is pi-opmiy in slaves. This is purely local. The real meaning then, of Southern gentleman, in making this eomplaint is, that they cannot go into the territorie of the United States, carryin, with them their awn peculiar local lawa law wh& h creates property ib persons. This, according to their own statement, is all the ground of complaint they have. Now here, I think, gentlemen are unjust toward us~ How unjust they are others will judgegenerations that will come after us wiYl judge. It will not be contended that this sort of personal slavery exists by general law. It exists only by local law. I do not mean to deny the validity of the local law where it is established; but it is, after all, nothing but 1 cal law. It is nothing more. And wherever that local law does not extend, property in persons does net exist~ Well, sir, what is now the demand on the part of our Southern friends? They say, We will carry our local laws with us wherever we go~ We insist that Gon~ grcss does us inj stice unless it establishes in the territory into which we wish to go, our own local laws. This demand I, for one, resist, nd shall resist. It goes upon the idea that there is an inequality, unless persons under this local law, and hold- ing property by authority of that law, can go into new territory and there estal. lisli that local la~v, to the exclusion of other laws. If a majority of the people in the new territories choose to institute those local laws, why should they not? On what grounds can the right of the people of a new territory be denied the right common to all other people on the continent of making their own local laws? To assert that they cannot, is to assert that they are as much slaves as the blacks held in bondage;. and yet this despotic power is that claimed for Congress in its relation to new territories. While members exerted themselves to prevent the in~ sertion of a principle in relation to black slaves in the Oregon bill, they passed the following in relation to the white inhabitants of that country: All the laws passed by the legislative assembly, shall be submitted to the Con.- gress of the states, and if disapproved, shall be null and reid. This is not an idle form, inasmuch as we have seen Congress, on more than on one occasion, step in, and, with absolute power, annul the will of the whole people, as expressed in a law passed by their d6legates. Such persons are slaves themselves. What is claimed for the people of the~

192 Territorial Government~ [September~, extension of slavery to the free territory lately annexed. Without the sanction of law, slavery can no more exist in a territory than a man can breathe without air. Slaves are not property where they are not made so by the municipal law. The legislature of a territory can exercise no power which is not conferred it by act of Congress. If it is wrong for a people themselves to submit to the usurpation of a go~ vernment, it s equally wrong for them to attempt to domineer over another people. The principle of self-government can in no way be violated without injuring as ~vell the oppressor as the oppressed. It is a remarkable fact, that the only occasion on which serious difficulties now spring up between par-~ ties threatening the stability of the Union, have been based solely upon this local legislation for distant people, or what may be called, the imperial legislation of Congress. The strife is between parties uninterested as to what local laws they shall pass for other people without asking their assent. If the right of those people to make their own laws was recognised, all difficulty would cease. All parties in the Union agree that the institution of slavery depends upon local law, and that the people of the several localities in the states have alone the right to make those local laws; and yet, as soon as a purely municipal matter presents itself in the territories, parties to the federal Union begin to quarrel as to what Io~al laws they shall make through the instrumentality of Congress for the people in the new locality. Thus Mr. Webster, in a late speech, states the matter as follows The Southern states have peculiar laws, and by th se laws there is pi-opmiy in slaves. This is purely local. The real meaning then, of Southern gentleman, in making this eomplaint is, that they cannot go into the territorie of the United States, carryin, with them their awn peculiar local lawa law wh& h creates property ib persons. This, according to their own statement, is all the ground of complaint they have. Now here, I think, gentlemen are unjust toward us~ How unjust they are others will judgegenerations that will come after us wiYl judge. It will not be contended that this sort of personal slavery exists by general law. It exists only by local law. I do not mean to deny the validity of the local law where it is established; but it is, after all, nothing but 1 cal law. It is nothing more. And wherever that local law does not extend, property in persons does net exist~ Well, sir, what is now the demand on the part of our Southern friends? They say, We will carry our local laws with us wherever we go~ We insist that Gon~ grcss does us inj stice unless it establishes in the territory into which we wish to go, our own local laws. This demand I, for one, resist, nd shall resist. It goes upon the idea that there is an inequality, unless persons under this local law, and hold- ing property by authority of that law, can go into new territory and there estal. lisli that local la~v, to the exclusion of other laws. If a majority of the people in the new territories choose to institute those local laws, why should they not? On what grounds can the right of the people of a new territory be denied the right common to all other people on the continent of making their own local laws? To assert that they cannot, is to assert that they are as much slaves as the blacks held in bondage;. and yet this despotic power is that claimed for Congress in its relation to new territories. While members exerted themselves to prevent the in~ sertion of a principle in relation to black slaves in the Oregon bill, they passed the following in relation to the white inhabitants of that country: All the laws passed by the legislative assembly, shall be submitted to the Con.- gress of the states, and if disapproved, shall be null and reid. This is not an idle form, inasmuch as we have seen Congress, on more than on one occasion, step in, and, with absolute power, annul the will of the whole people, as expressed in a law passed by their d6legates. Such persons are slaves themselves. What is claimed for the people of the~ 1848.] Territorial Government. 193 territories, is the right to make their own laws irrespective of Congress, and this Mr. Van Buren, in one of his recent apologies for his apostacy, calls an absurd pretension, as follows: It is further contended, that slaves are so far to be regarded as property, as to authorize their owners to carry them into any of the territories, and to hold them there, notwithstanding any act which Congress may pass upon the subject. If Congress have the constitutional power to prohibit slavery in the territories, its laws place the subject on the same footing there as the state laws do in the states. As well, thercfore, might the slaveholder contend that he can bring hi slaves into a state which prohibits slavery, as that he can bring them into territories where slave- ry is prohibited by Congress. If his slave runs away, and eaters one of the non- slaveholding states, he does not thereby become free, but shall be delivered up upon the claim of the person entitled to his services. But this is not in conse- ~uence of the recognition of the right of property in such person, notwithstanding the state laws, but in virtue of an express article of the constitution, which consti- tutes one of its compromises upon the subject of slavery. This view of the matter was placed in a clear light in the recent debates, by one of the oldest and most disti guished members of the Senate, when he insisted that the claim, on the part of the slaveholders, though nominally to remove their property, was, in reality, to transport their laws into the territories. One has, therefore, only to imagine a ter- ritorii governed by the various and conflicting laws of thirty independent states, to appreciate the absurdity of the pretension. We thus find Mr. Van Buren endorsing Mr. Daniel Webster~ s views in Opposition to the right of the people to make their own laws; and when we reflect how recently Mr. Webster, in his argument before the United States Supreme Court on the Rhode Island question, opposed popular rights, we become aware of the great revolution which Mr. Van Burens ideas have undergone in a short time. These incongruities exhibit the difficulty of making former democratic professions square with present federalist affinities. The people of the several states have, in the exercise of their sovereignty, made laws in re- lation to slavery, irrespective of the constitution, and these laws have emanated from the voice of the majority. The people of territories have the same inherent right to pass municipal laws for their own government a right which has, however, been violated by the usurpations of Con- gress. Mr. Van Burens present federalist affinities induce him to regard the right to make laws as coming down from rulers, rather than coming up from the people. Iowa, as an instance, was last year a territory in- habited by people from thirty independent statesthis year she is a state, with her own laws. Mr. Van Buren thinks it would have been an absurd pretension for these people to have had their own local laws last year. Wherein the removal of Congressional usurpation makes it less absurd this year is not so apparent; probably should circumstances again change, Mr. Van Buren is prepared to show that it is an absurd pretension for any people to make their own laws. To say that the peo- ple of teri-itories have no rights because they have never been allowed to exercise them, is not in accordance with the spirit of the age, which is one of popular progress, and not as the seceders from the democratic party would have us believe, of consolidated central power over the local laws of communities. Up to this moment, no parties except the ultra abolitionists, contend that the southern states have not a right to hold slaves. We have, how- ever, conclusive evidence that Mr. Van Buren and his followers are pre~ pared to take that ground, the moment that their personal interests or malevolence will seemingly be promoted by avowing it. This proof has been afforded in the last letter of Mr. Van Buren, in relation to slavery in 194 Territorial Government. fSeptembe~, the District of Columbia. The following extracts are from his inaugural message, from his Utica letter in June, and his letter accepting the Buf- falo nomination of the whigs and ultra abolitionists: Inaugural. Utica Letter, June 20, 1848. August 22, 1848. Perceiving, before my elec- This is not a new opinion I must not, however, b. tion, the deep interest this sub- on my part, nor the first occa- understood either by what I ject was beginning to excite, sion on which it has been now say, or by what was said I then declared that, if the de- avowed. Whilst the candidate in my letter to the New York sire of those of my countrymen of my friends for the Presi- delegation at Utica, as repeat- who were favorable to my dency, I distinctly announced mb the declaration that ~ election was gratified, I must my opinion in favor of the would. if elected, withhod my go into the Presidential chair power of Coubress to abolish approval from a bill for the the inflexible and sesecompro- slavery in the District of Co- abolition of slavery in the Dis- sassing opponent of eves y at- lumbia, although I was, for trict. I covid not scow geve tempt, on che part of Oongre~s, reason-c which vere then, and an.y ssech assnrance, for the to abolish slavery in the Dis- are still satisfactory to y reasoss, that ehe circe stances erict oJ (Jolsembia, against the nziad, very decidedly opposed by which the question is ow wishes of the slaveholding to its exercise there. surrouseded are widely and states; and also with a deter- materially different from what inination equally decided, to they were when the declara- resist the slightest interference tion was made; and because, with it in the states where it upon a gsce.~teoss of expediesecy, exists. cercumstasttts ost tosetrol. The injudicious may smile at the unblushing profligacy here apparent; but the democrat and the patriot cannot hut grieve that this man has, by their choice, once had charge of the destiiiies of the country. Upon a question of expediency, circumstances niust controlprinciples, patriot- ism, honor, even common honesty, weigh as nothing; expediency, even in a matter of national existence, is the only rule of action. How soon may it become expedient to avow ultra abolition views, and coolly state that circumstances are changed, and they control! What are the circumstances that have induced the abandonment of former avowed principles l They are simply that Mr. Van Buren is with an Adams, the co-nominee of whigs and abolitionists, and under these circumstances~~ it is expedient to abandon former professions, and to progress in their abandonment as circumstances continue to alter. The immortal Jeffer- son, in warning the country against this very movement which Mr. Van Buren heads, strongly pointed out the progressive nature of this fanatic doctrine, and Mr. Van Burens immediate personal followers already avow the dissolution of the Union to be a desirable object. The tone taken in regard to the South, not only in the violent party journals, but even, in many cases, by men of high pretensions and great personal respectability on the floor of Congress and elsewhere, is very little less bitter aiid oflensive, than that of the British journals in regard to the country at large. Following exactly the predictions of Wash- ington, that badly ambitions men will misrepresent the opiniotis and aims of other districts, the slavery of the South is represented as a wrong inflicted upon the North, not as an evil forced upon the South by our forefathers of Old arid New-England. The South is charged with a spirit of sectional aggrandizement at the expense of the North. Threats of disunion are openly made, even in the imposing form of resolutions of State Legislatures; and societies professing a philanthropic character publicly announce, and are actually carrying itito effect, the intention to agitate the country with a view to the dissolution of the Union. We are told that we are, always have beenand, until the constitution shall have been amended, always shall hegoverned by a junto of slave- holders. This supposition, if admitted, wotild lead to conclusions not very palatable perhaps to those who make it. If the miracles of success and prosperity which have uniformly attended our progress as a nation, are to be attributed to the influence of a junto of slave holders, it will be Terrz~torial Government. 195 necessary to conclude that the government of such a junto, judged by its resultsthe only sure test of the character ot any political institutio?s~~ is one of the best that has ever been tried. But the supposition is itself entirely erroneous. If the South has exercised a good deal of political influence, it has npt b en because she held slavesa circumstance wI~ich, on the contrary, has greatly diminished, and is regularly diminishing, her sectional weight in the UniOnbut because she has produeed such men Washington, Henry, Marshall, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and MTeir; not to mention living characters of hardly less distinction and dignity. Most of these persons, it is true, held slaves, but they exercised influence, not as slaveholders, but as men. If these mcii, or some of them, have possessed more weight in the Union than others of equal merit at the North, it has been, we apprehend, not because they held slaves, but because they took views of the policy of the country more in accordance with the genius of our institutions, and which, for that reason, have ultimately obtained the almost unanimous assent of the people. it is a fact which cannot he disputed, and need not be dis- guised, that on all the great questions that have necessarily agitated the country, the South has taken the side which has finally carried the people with it; and, what is still more remarkable, account for it as we may, the side most favorable to liberty. We allude, of course, to dorni- nant parties and the general tendency of opinion. In the controversies which grew out of the foundation and construction of the Federal Consti- tutionand in those which succeeded, and had their origin in the revo- lutionary struggles of Europein the disputes with Great Britain respecting neutral rightson the great financial questions of the Bank and Protectionwe find the North, riaht or wrong, uniformly on the side of Powerthe South on that of Liberty. Even on isolated questions, Jike that of the acquisition of Louisianawhich seem to have no connec- tion with general principlesthe South has had the fortune to espouse the opinion that has finally been sanctioned by the people. It will not be pretendedat least at the Norththat a community of slaveholders is naturally, as such, more favorable to liberal principles of government, than one composed entirely of freemen but it is not very difficult to imagine that in a country like ours, where all the institutions are based on the principles of liberty, the supporters of liberal princi- ples should regularly maintain the ascendency. How it has happened that the slaveholding South should have uniformly raised the standard of Liberty and the free north that of Power, is a curious question, which has often been asked, but never satisfactorily answered. Perhaps the native generosity and lofty spirit of the South are better guides to the judgment than our vaunted Northern calculation. The fact is certain; and it is in this fact, taken in connection with the power of steadiness which Southern statesmen have evinced in supporting their opinions in the national coun- cils, that we must look f~r the cause of Southern preponderance. The South has exercised influence, not as a community of slaveholders, but as die able, vigorous and eloquent champion of popular and state rightsin one word, of Liberty. The remedy for the evils which now threaten us is for the Democratic party as one man to resist any attempt of Congress to interfere with the local laws of any community under the pretence of safe precedents, whether situated in territories or in states. If Congress may interfere with local laws at all, Mr. Van Buren affords a lesson that it may become expedient to interfere with them in states; and in that case cir- cumstances will control. This whole matter of Territorial Governuient is a monstrous appendage to government patronage which should at on~ ii~6 Territorial Government. [September, be pruned away, preparatory to those reforms in other branches of pat- roI~age which we have heretofore strongly advocated. The right of the states to form their own local laws is at this moment acknowledged. As soon as the same right is accorded the territories, the whole fabric of dispute between sections of the union on that subject falls to the ground. The Constitution guarantees to any state in tile Union a republican form of government, although Congress governs Ferritories in the monarchical form. The old constitution of Rhode Island was clearly a wrong upon those deprived of the right of suffrage. Suppose the two great sections of the Union had taken sides upon the matter, and threatened dissolution unless Rhode Island adopted some organization thoroughly democratic as guaranteed by the federal constitution, would not the world say we were mad to go back to a state of civil war and anarchy for a matter in which none had a direct interest? Precisely such is the question of lo- cal law in distant territories; and it is urged on by most profligate politi- cians, aided by negroes and English emissaries, who spoke at the Buffalo Convention. In reflecting upon these facts, no American will hesitate to exert himself to crush forever the infamous disorganizing party formed of Whigs, renegade Democrats, negroes, abolitionists and freebooters of every hue. It will be borne in mind that this party is the offspring of government patronage. That it was organized in New-York under the corrupt system devised by Mr. Van Buren, and it acted with the Demo- cratic party only so long as that party countenanced Mr. Van Buren. The moment he was dropped for more stable men, the disgusting specta- cle is exhibited of an ex-President acting with United States salaried officers in calling meetings to interfere with the popular franchise, and these cliques of office-holders corresponding with affiliated knots of per- sons living on the public money, seek to defeat the nominee of the people in convention. In the pages of this Review, in describing the effects of public patronage upon public morals, we remarked Sept., 1845 If the superior officer has no interests but those of the public to serve, he will select such men for the public offices as will most redound to his own dignity and that of the offices to be filled. Those who are least fitted therefore for the places they aspire to, will be last thought of in such a case. Sensible of this, they will ally themselves to the fortunes of some man upon whose gratitude they can de- pend ~f he should be successful. But if the candidate be a man who will submit to even ar~implied stipulation in favor of the men to whom such a stipulation is ne- cessary, he, in turn, must be wholly unworthy of the place to which he aspires. Nay, if he will consent to award to the less worthy applicants the offices whose advowson he enjoys, even as a reward for services voluntarily rendered, or for any ause other than through his own ignorance, he is a bad man and a dangerous public officer. But the less deserving, and also the more necessitous, will insist upon having such a prospect secured to them in some form. If they cnnnot have it from one man, they will have it from another; and theyll ransack all the asylums of wrecked and decayed politicians in the country until they discover one, as they always can, fit foi their uses. Actuated, then, by an interest more strong than is felt by the more eligible class of political aspirants, and increasingly stronger than that of the ordinary citizens, they devote themselves to the success of their man or men, with a devotion and an unscrupulousness ms disproportioned as are their merits to those of the other two classes. The interest in these labors becomes re- ciprocal. The candidate may have tried in vain for a fair nomination from the eople; he may lack some element of character which is fatal to his legitimate suc- cess; he consorts by instinct with his kind; he promises everything that is necessa -ry to beget efficiency in his backers; he is chosen; and every office over which ho can exert any control is billeted with some of his instruments. That this kind of success is practicablenay is common, no one with the experience of however short a political life, can question. If it be practicable, it must be profitable, if profitable, it will be prosecuted by every office-waiter sufficiently easy in his morals to use the means~ 1848.] Territorial Government. 1177 This was written just three years since, and its truth, as represented at this moment in the Van Buren faction, who are the necessary progeny of the Van Buren regency scheme of government that existed in New- York under the old constitution for 20 years, none will dispute. A mere reference to the pay roll of the state and federal governments will exhibit the names of the active men of the barn burner faction. Those who bore in mind these facts had no difficulty in understanding Mr. Van Burens letter, accepting the Utica nomir4ation, as follows: The Utica Convention, chiefly composed of men and the descendants of men who have been my political associates and fast friendsfrom the commencement to the termination of my political career, believing that the use of my name as a candidate for the Presidency was essential to the proper support of their principles, and the maintenance of that independent position to which they have been driven by the injustice of others to assume, asserted and exercised the right of so employing it. That they could, under existing circumstances, do this without exposing this fidelity to their old associates in politics to just impeachment, no eandid mind well informed upon the subjeet, will deny, and I understood them too well to question the good faith of their proceeding. I know very ~vell that they would have respected my known wishes in the matter, if they had supposed that they could do so with justice to.themselves and to their cause. Placed as their fellow-cittizen in the same situation, and bound to them by the strongest gratitude and respect, and holding the same opinions, for entertaining which they had been virtually expelled from all communion with their old associates in the political field, I could not hesitate irs authorising the declaration, that I should not feel myselt~ at liberty to interpose any farther obstacle to their proceedings. It is seldom that a political letter contains so much truth, and yet it was so. In the published letters of these men the corrupt nature of their connection is but too evident. The rejection of Mr. Van Buren by the people in convention placed him and his fellow-creatures of patronage in the same situation, hence the present combination to defeat the national nominee. It will, however, be powerless. It results merely in the fact that Mr. Van Buren and a few followers have become whigs, a term which signifies a party destitute of other principles than opposition to the will of the American people; and those people will, at the coming elec- tion, show that whiggery is not the more difficult to be beaten hecause a traitor the more is added to its ranks. This is a contest in which we all feel that we are contending for some- thing more and better than any petty pecuniary interests. It is not for more or less tariff protectionfor more or less of influence on prices and the reward of industry through measures of financial policyfor rnoreor less of national extension of territory. On these l)oints, and all such points, the advantage might be against us instead of in our favor, as it is; and yet do we believe that the Democratic spirit would be no less powerfully arousedno less eagerly bent on the victory which its rising enthusiasm has already assured. We feel it to he, indeed;a question be- tween democracy and un-democracya contest for principles higher than any personal interestsfor the honor of our countryfor the truth of all our most cherished political ideasfor the memories of our most revered sages and patriots of the days when the foundations of our institutions were laidfor the sacred cause of the very manhood, the very humanity, that is in us. And in such a contest, such a cause, we fight for no leader as suchwe fight for no paywe fight for the sake of no laws of disci- pline or organizationwe fight each on our own hookbut of the feeling in our own heartand therefore we shall conquer, as we are gloriously conquering, as nations always conquer who contend in this spirit against the bad tyrannies which would at once oppress and disgrace them. 198 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [September, PRINCE NAPOLEON LOUIS BONAPARTE. FROM his person my glance wandered overthe room, which surprised roe by its extreme rudeness. It was very smallthe walls bare and the floor without covering. Three or four wooden chairs, a single table, on which, among other objects, stood a simple students lamp, constituted its principal furniture. In a recess on either side of the chimney, were shelves running to the ceiling filled ~vith books, and here and there around the apartment were suspended several engravings, with some miniatures of the Princes family. On the low, wooden mantel-piece stood a common clock, and a small, plain looking-glass above it. The whole had very much the appearance of a common kitchen in some unpretending private house. This is your study, Prince, I suppose l I remarked, after a rapid sur- vey of the premises. Yes, and my salon too, he replied; and that door opposite leads to a small cabinet which serves as a bed-room. On the other side of the corridor is another apartment, wbere I meet my fellow-prisoners at dinner. The government, in this case at all events, I observed, cannot be accused of a want of the most rigid economy, for nothing can well be more illiberal, or vindictive, than the spirit which has assigned to your highness these miserable quarters. Oh, I am very well-off now, I assure you, answered the Prince; since they have ordered the removal of the damp brick floor, which in this wet climate and decayed old building seriously impaired my health. I am af- fected with a violent rheumatism, which you see has lamed me, but I trust it will pass off with time. I cannot but admire, Prince, I responded, the patient good-humor with which you support these spiteful acts of malevolence. It is just the treatment which an enemy inflicted on your illustrious uncle, the Emperor, when at St. Helena; but his fierce spirit chafed itself away under indigni- ties he could not brook. Your resignation, Prince, will likely foil the cruel anticipations that were probably entertained. A desultory conversation here ensued, in which I related to the Prince my visit to his relatives in America, after whom he asked with much in- terest. I also gave him many details of his friends in London that seemed naturally to afford him much pleasure. Nearly an hour of the very short time allowed me had elapsed, and as yet I had made no approach to the sLibject uppermost in my mind; and now that the occasion was within my reach, I felt a strange reluctance to seize it. A sudden sense of my pre- sumption overcame me at seeking to penetrate the veil which hung over secrets of such solemn importance as the conspiracies of Strasburgh and Boulogne. How often it happens that the foot shrinks back from the threshold which the mind had so eagerly contemplated from afar. I sat iir~- solute, but inwardly speculating on the best mode of approaching the sub- ject. To wend my way to it thrbugh any circuitous path would not con- ceal my motives from the quick discernment of the Prince, and might possibly offend his well-known frankness of character. To approach it directly and in front, would be regarded, perhaps, as an indelicacy on my part that might forfeit his good opinion of my bleeding. Amid these embarrassments, the Prince suddenly inquired after a devoted arid in- fluential friend of his in London, and it was happily in my power to afford him full and interesting information of his welfare. I closed my remarks with

198 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [September, PRINCE NAPOLEON LOUIS BONAPARTE. FROM his person my glance wandered overthe room, which surprised roe by its extreme rudeness. It was very smallthe walls bare and the floor without covering. Three or four wooden chairs, a single table, on which, among other objects, stood a simple students lamp, constituted its principal furniture. In a recess on either side of the chimney, were shelves running to the ceiling filled ~vith books, and here and there around the apartment were suspended several engravings, with some miniatures of the Princes family. On the low, wooden mantel-piece stood a common clock, and a small, plain looking-glass above it. The whole had very much the appearance of a common kitchen in some unpretending private house. This is your study, Prince, I suppose l I remarked, after a rapid sur- vey of the premises. Yes, and my salon too, he replied; and that door opposite leads to a small cabinet which serves as a bed-room. On the other side of the corridor is another apartment, wbere I meet my fellow-prisoners at dinner. The government, in this case at all events, I observed, cannot be accused of a want of the most rigid economy, for nothing can well be more illiberal, or vindictive, than the spirit which has assigned to your highness these miserable quarters. Oh, I am very well-off now, I assure you, answered the Prince; since they have ordered the removal of the damp brick floor, which in this wet climate and decayed old building seriously impaired my health. I am af- fected with a violent rheumatism, which you see has lamed me, but I trust it will pass off with time. I cannot but admire, Prince, I responded, the patient good-humor with which you support these spiteful acts of malevolence. It is just the treatment which an enemy inflicted on your illustrious uncle, the Emperor, when at St. Helena; but his fierce spirit chafed itself away under indigni- ties he could not brook. Your resignation, Prince, will likely foil the cruel anticipations that were probably entertained. A desultory conversation here ensued, in which I related to the Prince my visit to his relatives in America, after whom he asked with much in- terest. I also gave him many details of his friends in London that seemed naturally to afford him much pleasure. Nearly an hour of the very short time allowed me had elapsed, and as yet I had made no approach to the sLibject uppermost in my mind; and now that the occasion was within my reach, I felt a strange reluctance to seize it. A sudden sense of my pre- sumption overcame me at seeking to penetrate the veil which hung over secrets of such solemn importance as the conspiracies of Strasburgh and Boulogne. How often it happens that the foot shrinks back from the threshold which the mind had so eagerly contemplated from afar. I sat iir~- solute, but inwardly speculating on the best mode of approaching the sub- ject. To wend my way to it thrbugh any circuitous path would not con- ceal my motives from the quick discernment of the Prince, and might possibly offend his well-known frankness of character. To approach it directly and in front, would be regarded, perhaps, as an indelicacy on my part that might forfeit his good opinion of my bleeding. Amid these embarrassments, the Prince suddenly inquired after a devoted arid in- fluential friend of his in London, and it was happily in my power to afford him full and interesting information of his welfare. I closed my remarks with 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 199 saying, almost without thought, that he had related to me an anecdote which filled me with astonishment. Indeed, inquired the Prince, and pray what was that ? Why, that your highness, I answered, with my eyes intently fixed on the Prince, had stated to him, when dining at your table some three weeks or so before the descent on Boulogne, that any invasion of France at that time would in your opinion be attended with great risk, and proba- bly end in a failure. The Prince returned my gaze with a look in which curiosity and confi- dence seemed to blend. Rising from his chair as though moved by my ob- servation, and standing xvith his back to the fire-place, he remained silent for a few moments, apparently absorbed in his reflections. To make you comprehend this seeming inconsistency, he suddenly remarked, it will be necessary to tell you a long story, and to go back over a lengthened period of time; but if your patience be adequate, 1 will cheerfully undertake the task. I am deeply sensible, Monseigneur, I replied, bowing very low, of the honor you do me; nor will I seek to disguise the profound interest I feel in the events you are about to relate. it is a narrative, I am sure, I shall long remember. Seating himself with great deliberation, as though his mind was already wandering amid the labyrinths of the past, he began his recital. His lan- guage was simple, precise and graphic,his manner for the most part calm and collected, save where the events described be& aiii~ Stirring, when his cheek would redden and his gesture grow animated: It would lTh~hope- less to endeavor to recall all his fine expressions, for my attention was al- most entirely absorbed by the chief incidents of the rnQving drama in which he played so fearless, so honest and so melancholy a part. Suffice it, that the facts related may be relied on, for I have taken no small pains since to be correctly informed. V. It were useless began the Prince, to dwell upon all that preceded, and led me to engage in the enterprise of Strasburgh. It would seem like exaggeration also, to talk of the intense affection I hear to France; but yet what is more natural? It is not merely the country of my birththe com- mon but strong tie which binds every heart to the place of its nativitybut it is to France that my family owes all its honors arid all its distinctions. I put a proper estimate on the genius of the Emperor, but it seems to me, that with any other than the French people, his glory would have been less. They were made for each other. How can a descendant, then, of Napoleon divert his mind and sympathies for a moment from the fortunesof France? and from the first glimmering of reason her welfare has absorbed my whole soul. The Revolution of 1830 filled me with the most buoyant anticipa- tions, and I thought at last that all the lofty and glorious designs of the Emperor were to be fulfilled, and that the state would no longer groan un- der the burdens of a profligate expenditurethat the condition of the peo- ple relieved from galling abuses would gradually improveand above all, that civil liberty ~vould be constitutionally organised and honestly adminis- tered. What sinking at the heart! what bitterness of disappointment I ex- perienced, as year after year I beheld the frustration of my hopes, it were idle now to recall; but the inspirations of a just indignation gradually took possession of my breast, and I found consolation and relief in the whis- perings of revolt. And even were it possible, Prince, I ventured to remark, to subdue your legitimate interest in the misfortunes of your country, it never seems 200 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [September, to occur to the world that you must be a constant prey to the solicitations, entreaties and remonstrances of hundreds of frenzied partizans, who, from motives patriotic or otherwise, are incessantly goading you on to some violent expression of your sentiments. I see no object in evading or denying your conjecture, returned the Prince; and such are the unenviable responsibilities of my position. Per- haps from my youth and inexperience I have allowed myself to be too easily moved by the zealous partizanship of some, and the heated, though honest patriotism of others. It were difficult, you may well believe, for any mind to retain its composure exposed to such temptations, even when it is wholly insensible to the merits of the cause so enthusiastically de- fended. But at the time I am now speaking, 1836, my sympathies were poignantly aroused, and the insidious but persevering efforts at reaction filled me with such anger that I listened readily to the appeals which reached me on every side. These were of a nature the most encouraging, and gave me good grounds to anticipate an easy success. I should say here in advance, that however ardent my anxiety to vindicate myself from the natural, but unjust suspicions of the world, as to the folly or criminality of my attempts, I am forbid by every sentiment of honor at disclosing many facts and names of an importance that would go a vast length toward mode- rating their harsh judgments But this I feel no hesitation in saying, that had not a strange fatality arrested in both cases my attempts at their very outset, a result would have followed, which in its rapidity and completeness, would have astonished Europe. But to return to Strasburgh, where, in the summer of 1836, I decided to accept the offers made me, and to ascertain by personal investigations what chances of success really existed. By means of trusty agents the regiments along the eastern frontier were all sounded, both officers and men, and singular to say, they all signified their willing- ness to support the proposed attempt. No pains were taken to sow sedition, or to stir up ill-blood amongst them. The only questions asked were simply these, Are you content with the government? No. Will you pro- mise, then, should the occasion arise, to follow a Bonaparte? Yes. Their names were then enrolled, and the most auspicious period for the en- terprise was next discussed. The month of August was decided on, and the city of Strasburgh was selected as the most eligible spot. There were six regiments in garrison in this town, three of infantry and three of artillery, beside a battallion of pontonniers. Of the artillery and engineers there was no reason to doubt the constancy, nor, indeed, any as to the soldiers of the line, though it was suspected that some of their offi- cers were less favorably disposed. As to the popular sentiments of the peo- ple of Strasburgh, enough was known to guarantee their entire adhesion. Before settling definitely on the, outbreak I determined, at whatever risk, to repair to Strasburgh in person and form my opinions on the spot, of the exact dispositions of my partizans and the real nature of the obstacles to be encountered. It was difficult to elude the vigilance of the French po- lice, who were constantly on my track, and still more, if possible, to escape from the fond vigilance of my mother, to whom I was doubly dear since the heart-rending death of my only brother. Under pretext of attending a ball at my aunts, the Dowager Grand Duchess of Baden, I left our chateau of Arenenburgh, and betook myself, without suspicion, to Baden. On the night of the ball I mingled for a while with the gay throng, when I stole unobserved into the park adjoining the palace, mounted a horse, and galloped to the high-road where a carriage was in waiting. I crossed the frontier without accident in the uniform of a French officer; and not long after midnight I found myself in the heart of Strasburgh. I was enthusiastically received 1S48.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte~ 201 at the quarters of Col. , where I found great numbers of the offi~ cers of the various regiments assembled, in expectation of my arrival. We spent the greater portion of the night in deliberation. The most part were in favor of immediate operations, and thought that no benefit ~vhatever could accrue from further delay. There were others, however, who hesitated, and considered postponement for a time the wisest policy, it is ever thus on the arrival of a crisis, when some of the boldest in purpose start back in ap- prehension from the alarming gulf which divides thought from action. For myselG I deemed that sufficient preparation had been made, and was im- patient at the irresolution manifested, for it was evident that they took coun- sel from their fears, and not from the improbabilities of our situation. I considered it prudent, however, to preserve harmony, and after repeated ex- planations wherein I showed the certain results of our plans boldly carried out, I agreed to a suspension of further proceedings for t~vo months, and then follow me ~vho might, the blow should be struck. I re-crossed the frontier before daybreak, and returned in a few days in safety to Arenermburgh. Meanwhile preparations went actively on; every days information from various quarters of France convinced me that it only needed the prestige of one victory to put an end to the natural hesitancy of hundreds of influential personages; and from what I knew of the state of things at Strasburgh, I never doubted a moment that such a victory was entirely within my grasp. At the ~Iose of October 1 set out again from my happy home, and my dear mother was entirely satisfied with my pretence of going to join a hutit- ing party in the mountains. On the night of the 528th I entered a second time the sleeping town of Strasburgh, which I shortly hoped to leave at the head of a triumphant insurrection. The 29th was rapidly consumed in completing the requisite details for the next mornings outbreak, and on this occasion I had reason to be satisfied with the alacrity displayed. There were no signs of indecision now, but still, 1 remember with emotion, there were some, who, indifferent about their own fate, trembled for the conse- quences that threatened myself. Even in the case of complete success they saw the dangers that environed me, and that a chance blow might at any mo- ment convert my triumph into a bloody and inglorious death. It was in this spirit that one of my most devoted friends, Col. Vaudrey, addressed me, and whilst he admitted the promising nature of our chances, he said that it clung to him the self-reproach of exposing me to numePous and serious dan- gers.* I overruled his kind and affectionate remonstrances, and named mid- night of the 29th for a last gathering of my friends, which took place imme- diately joining the Austerlitz barracks, which was garrisoned by the 4th re- giment of artillery, commanded by Col, Vaudrey. At this final re-union there were several schemes suggested relative to our mode of action the next morning. Some thought as the artillery was the most effective arm of our force, that it should be first assembled with its guns, and possession taken at once of all the strong points of the town; that this vigorous step would at once disarm Ol)position and decide the fortunes of the day. Others condemned this as too violent a proceeding; that it would necessarily offend the infantry, whose dispositions were above suspi- cion, and that instead of a popular movement headed by the troops, it would be regarded simply, if successful, as nothing more than a military insurrec- tion. As my object was not personal aggrandizement, but a revolution in favor of popular freedom, 1 determined at once, at whatever risk, not to *A touching anecdote is related by Louis Blanc in his History of Te~ Years, of this pure-minded officer. A paper was handed him by the Prince which secured an income of 10,000 francs to each of his two children. Col. Vaudrey instantly tore it up, saying, I give my blood, I do not sell it. rseptember, 202 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. take a course which would leave me in doubt of the popular sympathies. Our plan, at length, was settled; a few more details were arranged, and the separate parts of our task were assigned to each. I spent the few remain- ing hours of the night in ~vriting, and my last letters were inscrihed to my mother, the one of triumph, the other of farewell, in case through any mis- chance I should never see her again.* At 5 oclockon the morning of the 30th the siunal was given in the Austerlitz barracks. At the sound of the trum- pets the soldiers were aroused, and seizing their muskets and swords they hurried impetuously down into the court-yard. They were drawn up in double line around it, and Col. Vaudrey took his post in the centre. A short pause ensued awaiting my arrival, and a dead silence was preserved. On my appearance I was immediately presented to the troops in a few elo- q nent words from their Colonel. Soldiers, he said, a great revolution begins at this moment. The nephew of the Emperor is before you. He comes to put himself at your head. He is arrived on the French soil to restore to France her glory and her liberty. It is now to conquer or to die for a great causethe cause of the people. Soldiers of the 4th Regiment of Artillery, may the Emperors nephew count on you? The shout ~vhich followed this brief appeal nearly stunned me. Men and officers alike ahandoned themselves to the wildest enthusiasm. Flourishing their arms with furious energy they filled the air with cries of Vive,4Empe- reur. If misgi vin~s had ever crossed me of the fidelity of the French heart to the memory of Napoleon, they vanished fbrever before the suddenness and fierceness of that demonstration. The chord was scarcely touched and the vibration was terrific. I was deeply moved and nearly lost my self-pos- session. In a few moments I waved my hand signifying my desire to speak. Breathless silence ensued. Soldiers, I said, it was in your regiment the Emperor Napoleon, my uncle, first saw service; with you he distinguished himself at Toulon; it was your brave regiment that opened the gates of Grenoble to him on his return from the Isle of Elba. Soldiers, new destinies are reserved to you~ Here, I continued, taking the standard of the eagle from an officer near me here is the symbol of French glory; it must become hence- forth the symbol of liberty. The effect of these simple ~vords was indescribable; but the time for ac- tion had come. I gave the word to fall into column; the music struckand putting myself at their head, the regiment followed me to a man. Mean- while my adherents had been active elsewhere and uniformly successful. Lieutenant Laity on presenting himself was immediately joined by the corps of engineers. The telegraph was seized without a struggle. The cannon- eers commanded by M. Parquin had arrested the Prefect. Every wom~nt fresh tidings reached me of the success of the different movements that had been previously concerted. I kept steadily on my way at the head of the 4th regiment to the Finkniatt barracks, where J hoped to find the infantry ready to welcome me. Passing by the head-quarters where resided the commander-in-chief of the department of the Ba~ Rhin, Lieut. General Voirol, I halted, and was enthusiastically saluted by his guard with the cry of Vive lEmpereur. I made my way to the apartments of the General, where a brief interview took place. (in leaving I thought it necessary to give him notice that he was my prisoner, and a small detachment was as- signed to this duty. *In the account given by Louis Blanc of these events, he states that,towards the last the Prince seemed entirely en~ro-se4 with thou~hts of his absent and much loved parent. and that he gave these letters to his aiddecamp with a trembling hand and swimming eyes. 1S48.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 20S From the fact that Gen. Voirol was an old soldier of the Empire, it wa~ universally supposed at the time, Monseigneur, I remarked to the Prince, that he was secretly favorable to your cause, though it was not to he ex- pected that he would openly compromise himself till he saw the direction things were taking. Yes, pithily returned the Prince, there were many suppositions on this point, but it is sufficient that I had to make Geii. Voirol my prisoner. From his quarters I proceeded rapidly to the Finkmatt barracks, and al- though it was early in the morning the populace were drawn out by the noise, and mingling their acclamations with those of the soldiers, they joined our cortege in crowds. An unlooked-for error here occurred which had a most deplorable effect on the whole enterprise which had thus far gone on so swimmingly. We had reached the Faubourg de Pierre, when, be- ing on foot, the head of the column lost sight of me, and instead of follow- ing the route agreed on and proceeding at once to the ramparts, they en- tered a narrow lane that led direct to the barracks. Amid the noise and confusion it was impossible to retrieve this mischance, and I took hurriedly what measures I could to provide against its worst consequences. Fearing a possible attack on my year, I was compelled to leave a half of the regiment in the main-street we had left, and hastening forward, 1 entered the court-yard of the infantry barracks with my officers and some 400 men. I expected to find the regiment assembled, but the messenger entrusted with the news of my approach was prevented by some accident from reaching in time, and 1 found all the soldiers in their rooms occupied in preparing themselves for the Sundays inspection. Attracted, however, by the noise, they ran to the ~vindows, where I harangued them, and on hearing the name of Napoleon pronounced they rushed headlong downy thronged round me, and testified by a thousand marks of devotion their enthusiasm for my cause. The battal- ion of the ponfonniers and the 3d regiment of artillery, with Messrs. Poggi and Conard and a great number of officers at their head, were all in move- ment and on their way to join me, and word was brought they were only a square off. In another moment I would have found myself at the head of ~OOO men, with the people of the town everywhere in my favor, when of a sudden at one end of the court-yard a disturbance arose without those at the other extremity being able to divine the cause. Col. Taillandier had just arrived, and on being told that the Emperors nephew was there with the 4th regiment., he could not believe such extraordinary intelligence, and his surprise was so great that he preferred attributing it to a vulgar ambition on the part of Col. Vaudrey rather than to credit this unexpected resurrection of a great cause. Soldiers, he exclaimed, you are deceived; the man who excites your enthu~iasm can only be an adventurer and an impostor. An officer of his staff cried out at the same time, It is not the Emperors nephew; it is the nephew of Col. Vaudrey; I know him. Absurd as was this announcement, it fle~v like lightning from mouth to mouth, and began to change the disposition of this regimcnt, which a moment before had been so favorable. Great numbers of the soldiers believing them- selves the dupes of an unworthy deception became furious. Col. Taillan-. dier assembled them, caused the gates to be closed, and the drums to strike; while on the other hand the officers devoted to me gave orders to have the generale beaten to bring forward the soldiers who had embraced my cause. The space we occupied was so confined that the regiments became, as it were, confounded together, and the tumult was frightful. From moment to moment the confusion increased, and the officers of the same cause no ~origer recogni3ed each other, as they all wore the same uniform. The cannoneers arrested infantry officers, and the infantry in their turn laid hold Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [September, I~O4 of some officers of artillery. Muskets were charged, and bayonets and sabres flashed in the air, but no blow was struck, as each feared to wound a friend. A single word from myself, or Col. Taillandier, would have led to a regular massacre. The officers around me repeatedly offered to hew me a passage through the infantry, which could have been easily effected, but I would not consent to shed French blood in my own cause; besides, I could not believe that the 46th regiment, which a moment previously had mani- fested SQ much sympathy, could have so promptly changed their sentiments. At any risk I determined to make an effort to recover my influence over it, and I suddenly rushed into their very midst; but in a minute I was sur- rounded by a triple row of bayonets, and forced to draw my sabre to parry off the blows aimed at me from every side. In another instant I should have perished by French hands, when the cannoneers perceiving my dan- ger, charged, and carrying me off; placed me in their ranks. Unfortunately this movement separated me from my officers and drew me back to the ex- tremnity of the court-yard, amongst the soldiers who still remained doubtful of my identity. The idea occurred to me if I could get a horse I might render myself sufficiently prominent to command the tumult, and I made my way towards a picket of cavalry~ when just then the artillery were driven back, and I was thro~vn down by their horses. The infantry profiting by this circum- stance rushed upon me, and succeeded in making me a prisoner; and my officers seeing that further resistance was useless, necessarily surrendered themselves to the same fate.~* *It will be interesting to add a sketch of this stirring scene from the skilful pen of Louis 1~lanc, which in the main it will be seen, is accurate. The Finkmatt barracks, he writes, ~ are situated between the Faubourg de Pzerre and the rampart, on a line parallel with them~ Connected with the Faubourg, by an extremely narrow lane which leads up to the principal entry to the barracks. it is separated from the ramparts only by a lone yard, at one and of which is an iron eate. Now it had been settled that the insurgents should take the rampart road, the only route that allowed their forces to be displayed in an imposine manner, and would enable them to retreat in case of ill success. But by an inexplicable fatality, the head of the column went astray and entered the lane, leaving the bulk of the troops in the Fasnbour~ de Pierre; and Louis Bonaparte found himself entangled with a weak escort in a yard, which, if fortune failed him, might become his prison or his grave. Nevertheless, hearing the manic name of the Emperor pronounced, the foot soldiers hasten up from all sides; an old sergeant cries out that he had served in the imperial guard, and stoops down to seize the hand of the Prince, whom he embraces with tears. Emotion sways tbe soldiers at this spectacle ; already they surroun led Loni Bonaparte with marks of sympathy; already the cry is raised of rice 1Empereiir, when suddenly a strange rumor is heard amon~ them; it is posntively asserted that it is the nephew of Col. Vaudrey, who presents himself under the iiamo of Louis Bonaparte which he vilely ursuped, and a lieutenant named Plein- nier, rushes forward to make the Prince his prisoner. Himself arrested by the artillerymen, he struggles bravely, whilst his soldiers advance to rescue him. The moment was critical and decisive. A pistol shot would, perhaps, have sufficed to allay the danger, but Louis Bona- parte could not make up his mind to fire it. He even ordered the release of the lieutenant, who, returning to the charge, provoked a fresh conflict. Things were in this state when Lt. Col. Taillandier arrived, au d at his voice distrust became changed into rage. The court-yard resounded with menaces, and swords were flashing. The artillerymen who had been left in the Faubour~ Pierre, hearing of the Princes danger, had put themselves in motion stid- denly they were seen rushing in crowds into the barracks, and with them entered pell-mell, si. iv mounted cannoneers. The infantry then driven back violently in both ends of the yard, uttered shouts of furyformed again, and returned fiercely upon the Princes partizans, who were pushed and knocked down by the horse against the curtain of the rampart. - ft was a terrible moment. Here stood the foot-soldiers with bayonets chareed; there the artillerymen with their carbines leveled, ready to fire; above and along the rsniparts, the people zealously invoking success upon the Prince, and pouring volleys of stones on the infantry amidst confused clamors, the roll of drums, the clash of arms, and the neighing ofhorses. But all this was of short duration. In an insurrection not to vanquish quickly, is to be vanquished. A few musket shots fired in the air by order of GuI. Taillandier intimidated the people. On M. de Gricourt and de Querelles proffering to Louis Bonaparte to cut a passage for him sword in hand; he re jeened the offer and was made a prisoner. Surrender! was shouted at the same time to Gui. Vaudrey; he refused; hut Col. Taillandier approaching him and whispering in his ear that the revolt was regarded in the town as a le~itimatist movement, he at last ordered his cannoneers to retire, and gave himself up. 1848.] Prince N4poleon Louis Bonararte. 205 VI. It is a deeply stirring narrative, I observed, but nothing, Prince, strikes me with more wonder than the extreme facility which attended every step of the enterprize. The people, it seems, were as enthusiastic as the soldiery. What could be more conclusive of the deep-seated popularity of the Bonaparte cause in France! It was a strange fatality, that singular delusion as to your identity, which arose at the very moment that victory perched upon your standard! It is clear that nothing but this doubt pre- vented the town falling into your hands, amid the acclamations of the in- habitants. If it were a ruse of some enemy, he deserves credit, at least, for his ingenuity. No, replied the Prince, I do not think it was an invention to arrest the revolt, but it sprung naturally from the doubts of various parties, who, from negligence, or prudence, had not been entrusted with the secret of the intended attempt. It was, indeed, an unlooked-for result, and fortune played me a sorry freak. But, failure as it was, Monseigneur, I continued, the conspiracy fell so little short of con4lete success, that the government must have been seized with terror. Its unpopularity and weakness could hardly have been more fully and rapidly demonstrated. No doubt the King must have been sorely puzzled what course to take with your highness l Your speculations, returned the Prince, are all correct, The sin- gular ease with which our plans were carried almost up to their fulfillment must have struck the government with deep alarm. Their next care was to suppress, by any effort, the truth from getting out. It was officially stated that the 4th regiment only was compromised, and yet officers of other regi- ments were secretly cashiered. As for myself, I have since learnt that much embarrassment was experienced as to my disposition. To bring me to trial was considered indiscreet, as the particulars of the Strasburgh affair could, then, no longer be concealed; besides, it was thought injudicious to rouse the popular passions in my favor. There were fears, too, entertained that a jury would not condemn me, and numerous members of the Court of Peers declared their determination not to sit upon my trial. It would have been a dexterous thing to have sent me quietly back to Switzerland, with a simple condemnation of my youthful rashness. But instead, they gave far more importance to the event by the decision they came to. I was for a few days imprisoned in the gaol at Strasburgh, without receiving any tidings of my unfortunate companions, whose possible fate filled me with anguish. Ih this gloomy state of mind I was aroused late one night from my disturbed slumbers by my guard, and requested to follow him. The manner of the man and the nature of the summons for a moment awakened my suspicions, and expecting the worst, I got up hastily, and obeyed him. Directly I found myself in the presence of the Prefet, who stated that a carriage was in waiting, and that I must set off instantly for Paris. No time was allowed me for preparation, and in a few minutes more, without baggage or a ser- vant, I was rapidly whirling along under a strong escort in the high road to the Capital. On my arrival I was courteously received by the Prefect of Police, who further informed me that my immediate departure from France was decided on. I rested but two hours in Paris, during which I wrote to the King imploring his clemency for my unhappy partisans. I had nothing to ask for myself. Soon after I was transported aboard a ship of war which quickly set sail, and on the day succeeding only, according to his instructions from the Minister, the Captain opened his orders, and found himself directed to Rio Janeiro, and thence to New. York. VOL. XXiii.NO. cxxiii. 2 206 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [September It was, indeed, a painful ordeal, Monseigneur, I remarked, that yoi were thus called to undergo, in being torn from home, country and friends under circumstances so distressing, and given up for months to the solitude of the seas, with your mind a prey to the most harassing recollections. Your arrival in the New World must have been an inexpressible relief. In truth it was, responded the Prince; for though I could find abundant consolation for myself in the motives that inspired me, yet I could obtain no rest from the afflicting apprehensions which constantly pur-. sued me for the destiny of my followers. Even if their lives were not menaced, and this seemed to me impossible when their leader was acquit- ted, still I knew they must be languishing in prison, where for years they might linger, their prospects blasted and their names sullied with reproach. If I had been instrumental in bringing upon them such misfortunes, I would have deemed myself without excuse. But give me some news of New-York. I was greatly struck by that flue city; its noble situation, its magnitude, and growing splendor, all impressed me strongly, and I recall with the deepest satisfaction the numerous acts of kindness and generous hospitality so freely extended to me. New-York has made wonderful progress, I replied, since the period of your highnesss visit, and it promises at no very distant day to become in wealth arid population one of the leading capitals of the world. Whethe it will ever rival in its ornamental attributes, its public edifices, its prome- nades and pleasure grounds, the chief cities of Europe, is a question not so easily solved, for our institutions are considered unfavorable to the large expenditure for such purposes that is so common in Europe. But whilst I think it is an unjustifiable abuse of the public funds to waste so much treasure as has been done in France, and other countries on palaces, and gardens meant only for royal indulgence; yet I am persuaded that in America the people would entertain no objection to pay liberally for muse- ums, parks, and picture galleries that were destined for the amusement of all classes. It is not the rich who need such entertainment, but the poorer orders that would find delight in these resources. There is quite enough of taxation now in our country to allow of munificent appropriations for such purposes were peculation and jobbini~ put an end to; but as democ- racy progresses, we may hope for gradual improvement in these respects. I am quite your way of thinking, replied Prince Louis, and if any- thing could reconcile me to the abominable extravagance of past govern- ments in France, it is that these luxuries have become public property. There is a manifest justice in the fact that those gorgeous gardens, and galleries like Versailles and the Louvre, whose construction almost impoverished the na- tion, should return at last to the hands of the people. In America I see nothing but the jealousy of the people, or the timidity of public men, to prevent so wise aii employment of a certain portion of the public funds. Recreation is indispensable to our comfort, and all classes seek it in proportion to their re- sources. It is a great object, it strikes me, in a free state that the lower classes should be provided with means of refined amusement, since it will necessarily elevate their dispositions and purify their tastes. The pub- lic garden, adorned with statuary; the picture gallery, embellished by noble specimens of art, are directly calculated to withdraw die people from grosser diversions. There is no doubt that with increasing wealth these subjects will be agitated amongst you, and that the good sense which is so characteristic of you Americans will prevail over democratic prejudices, which in this case seem to me groundless. In Europe what the people pay for, the rich only enjoy. This is unjust, and could riot be, did the people exercise a legitimate influence. But that ihe people of your country should refuse to partake of refined pleasures which they are able to afford, and could 1848.] Prince Napoleo?z Louis Bonaparte. 207 control, does not strike me as consistent or rational. Nothing can be more. incongruous, however, than to hurry to conclusions relative to the effects of your institutions, or the dispositions of your people. Both, it may be said, are new and untried, and it is the business of philosophy to sit calmly down, and weigh every result carefully in the scales of investigation. We know posi- tively nothing about you in Europe, either of your system, or of your char- acter. Our reasonings are all founded on the events of our own history; whereas your political and social career, proceeding from premises wholly different, must lead to far other, and most novel consequences. I regret with all my heart that I had not time to travel extensively over the United States, and scrutinize, as far as a foreigner may, the workings of your political machinery; but more especially, the peculiarities of your people. The great secret lies here ; the same government in Europe, were it possible, would produce altogether different developments, and from the little I saw of the United States, there was far more to study in the habits, tastes and opinions of the people themselves than in the structure even of your institu- tions, though so ingenious and original. There was, in tht~ first place, a latitude of liberty which confounded me, and which, perhaps, is less com- prehensible to a Frenchman than to any other nation, for the peculiarity with us, and a crying misfortune it is, too, is the excess of governmental interfer- ence in everything. Yes, Prince, this is strikingly true, I said with some warmth. An American who has lived much in France is alternately astonished arid amused at detecting on every side of him, in his business or amusement, the ofilcious, meddling hand of government. Waking or sleeping, sitting or walking, in his dress and living, it is everywhere about and above him, and the natural effect is, which shrewd politicians must see, to effeminate and degrade the character of the people. I verily believe if passports were suddenly abol- ished the French would be afraid to travel, and I doubt if a crowd would ever get inside of a theatre if the police were not there to keep them in a~ line. While this governmental constraint is so rigidly kept up I see no chance for the training of the people in those robust habits of self~reliance which are the mainspring of an independent government.. The essence~ of a free state is the management by a people of their own affairs; now what hope, Monseigneur, can be cherished of a republic in France, whilst the people lemaiti forever subject to the tutelary restrictions of the government. In this respect they are but children in leading-strings alongside of the. Americans; and the offer of a free governmnt to the French is like setting a fine picture before a blind man; they lack the first element to its enjoyment. You have struck, replied Prince Louis, the very root of the evil, and the politician who is sincere in his desires for the regene- ration of France will earnestly set to work to curtail governmental sway. Almost the first step in this true path remains to be taken, and that the people are sufficiently ripe for making a beginning I do most conscien- tiously believe, it was just the opposite of this state of things that rivetted my attention in America. The people there are not only accustomed to think for themselves, but I observed they were keenly jealous of the smallest interference with their action. They cannot be too vigilant in this respect, for so long as public men are prevented from sacrificing the public weal to their personal aggrandise ment, the condition of the stite must remain sound. There was one feature, however, of your social system~ which greatly interested, arid I may say, perplexed me. An European habituated to a society of castes, where artificial distinctions are perpetuated by law and privilege, comes to America, the only land~ where equalityi s not a dogma of the schools, prepared to find society flowing over one 8mnooth, unbroken level; where all individuals of good repute, without refer~ 208 Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. [September, ence to fortune, or occupation, are seen to mingle freely and harmoniously together. Judge his surprise, therefore, to meet with the same arbitrary distinctions between classes which he is accustomed to behold in Europe; to hear the same conventional terms in use as to quality, and to perceive the same struggle going on between cliques and coteries for the ascendency which he reasonably thought were the natural production of an aristocratic soil, and hardly expected to find transplanted and flourishing on a demo- cratic ground. With us, you know, social rank is broadly marked and easily recomized; but amongst you, where title is not worn, and fortunes are not perpetuated,. confess that a foreigner is likely to be puzzled as to the nature of the distinctions which exist, and to marvel somewhat at their existing at all. I soon became aware of these shades and differences, but had not time enough to come to any accurate conclusions on the subject. I rea(lily accepted the numerous civilities proffered me from every side, as I was anxious to judge for myself of the various phases of your society. I remember very well on one occasion receiving the visit at my hotel of a gentlemanly -person ~vbo introduced bimselg frankly saying that be was a simple citizen of New-York, but being desirous of the honour of enter- taining so near a relative of the Emperor Napoleon, had come to invite me to an evenin~z party at his house. I thanked him cordially for bis flatterin, invitation, and cheerfully accepted it. I failed not at the appointed time, and was highly gratified with my reception. The house was spacious and elegant; the guests well-dressed and agreeable; and the entertainment in all respects luxurious. There was all the ease and Wf-pos~ession of good society (which, bye the bye, is singularly characteristic of Americans;) nothing uncouth or vulgar that I saw, and my evening passed off with great relish. I should not omit to say that the fairer portion of the company confirmed my previous impressions of American beauty. The next day, in 4 relating the circumstance to some of my visitors, I mentioned the name of my affable host, and great was the indignation thereat. A most impertinent liberty bad been taken with me, was their remark. Somewhat startled at this information, I enquired in haste as to the character of the party. There was nothing to be alledged against that, it was admitted. To his intelligence and civility I can bear witness, I replied, then pray tell me what it is which renders his house so unfit a place for me? Oh, was the response, he does not belong to the best society. I attempted with great earnestness to trace the nature of such distinctions, but their subtlety completely foiled me. I could obtain no satisfactory clue tp these mystical ramifications, and was left to conclude they were wholly~capricious and unreasonable. Without yielding to prejudices that were evidently local, I re- marked to my friends that Ne~v-York was fortunate in possessing a class in any degree superior to the one in question. And really, there seems to me, something illogical in refusing to associate with one man who may, per- chance, trade in oil, whilst another is courted because he owns the ship which transports it abroad. And so it strikes me, Monseigneur, I said with ready concurrence; but when such a distinction is drawn between two men, it does not fol- low that pecuniary advantages make the whole difference. One may be agreeable and well-bred, the other just the contrary; and a society which preferred the latter because he was the richer, would without doubt be. badly constituted. But this is not true of New-York, or of the country gene rally. The fact is, that foreigners constantly do us injustice in this respect, and merely because it is impossible for them, either through natural prejudices, or necessarily limited observation, to arrive at the real condition of things. It were tedious to attempt a full explanation, but I will endeavor to be explicit. That political laws do change and modify character is abund 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 209 antly true, but that they will ever revolutionize human nature, is highly un- jihilosophi~al to suppose. The passions and affections may be elevated or subdued, but never radically altered or extinguished. The purpose of any political system which is to resist the ardent aspirations of the heart after superiority, is shallow, and doomed to failure. No such fantastic dreams floated in the clear vision of the founders of our republic. They took the very pposite direction to what a French assembly would. In- stead of drawing lines and limits, and raising barriers and obstacles on every side, so as to compel humanity to follow the straight road of logic, but which its nature secretly delights in evading, they acted on the pro- found truth, that the best government is that which governs least. Or- daining such laws as would preveut one class arrogating priority over another; forbidding badges of distinction, and providing for the constant distribution of individual wealth; they wisely left social life to re,ulate itself under these salutary restraints. The consequence is, that society with us reposes on a true and natural basis consisting of elements that are entitled to precedence. Talent, character and breeding, are riot merely passports to the best society, but there are no other standards by which to qualify it. There is no society amongst us which could exclude them, and there is none really respectable where they are not found. That there may be in our larger cities individuals, sometimes, with doubtful pretensions to either, who, from vanity, endeavor to form coteries that aspire to regulate fashion, and pronounce on the claims of candidates to their favor, is so far from being a contradiction to our political system, a direct proof of its tolerant justice. To interfere with the caprices of individuals which do not invade the pub- lic good would be a gross infringemeht of personal liberty; and our sys- tem, as all true democratic systems ought, prefers to err on the side of liberty. These social monopolies are necessarily evanescent, for founded chiefly on wealth, they disappear with its absorption, which is sure to follow through accident, or legal provision, as stated before. Wealth in our society exercises the same influence as elsewhere in the world. It is un- true that its sway is greater, and it is more short-lived, for it is usually lim- ited to the life of its possessor. You will admit, Prince, that it is by no means a rare sight in London or Paris, to meet in the best society the par- venu who has nothing but his ingots and impudence to recommend him. This is far more common in England, for society in France is gradually as- similating to our own. Already intellect is its highest distinction, while title and family are steadily dwindling to its least. This is true democratic progress, but yet I am bold to say, Monseigneur, that France has an im- inense distance to travel. Social equality universally prevails; an easy and affectionate intercourse between all classes and conditions is one of the most winning features of the French, but still a taste for rank and decorations inspires the higher classes, whilst great deference is felt for them by the lower. in this particular it is impossible for an European to imagine the contrast to be found in the IJnited States, where, the insensibility of the mass to distinctions merely adventitious like those of title or descent, really surpasses belief. Any foreign nobleman, of high or low degree, who comes amongst them, will be treated with the same politeness extended to any other respectable stranger, and he will be appreciated ai~cording to his conduct. If lie be arrogant, they laugh at him; if he be unassuming, they respect him. if his name be greater tItan his rank, they may be disposed to honor the ser- vices of the statesman, the patriot, or the soldier. * * This was abundantly proved in the case of Lord Morpeth, who visited the United States in 1840. As the representative of the aristocratic blood of all the Howards he would have gone through the country unnoticed, but as a distinguished member of the English 2Partiament [September, 210 Pri4ce Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. Your remarks are not more original than just, flatteringly declared Prince Louis, and accord entirely with my own observations. I was but a little while amongst your countrymen before I discovered that the many amiable attentions offered me were dictated by respect for the name I bore rather than from any regard to my titular rank. It was in this spirit that I re- ceived a compliment that touched me nearly. I was on my way back to my ho- tel from a pleasant dinner at the country house on Long Island of one of your leading journalists, whose hospitality laid me under much oblmgation,~ when in driving through the streets of Brooklyn, I found several military com- panies drawn up in anticipation of my return, and who paid me the honor of a passing salute. Judge of my surprise, only equalled by my pleasure, to find myself, a stranger in exile, and misfortune, the object of such a de- monstration. Its value was infinitely enhanced by the fact that it was not the formal display of an official body, nor yet partook of that conventional courtesy which prompts a monarchical government to honor the representa- tive of royal pretensions; but was clearly the spontaneous act of a people entirely free, and meant solely to express in a dignified manner their respect for the memory of Napoleon and their regard for the land of my birth. In Europe the civility of any functionary might have procured me this honor, but in the United States I felt that such a manifestation could not proceed from any individual source, and that unless the impulse caine from the people, no commander, civil or military, would presume to sug- gest it. This, and many other incidents during my stay, soon taught me where the real power amongst you resided, and it was so totally unlike any- thing I had ever before seen, that it opened a new and curious view of reflec- tion in my mind. No foreigner who can raise himself above the prejudices of his country or station can pass a single day in the United States without profit to his heart and understanding. That your countrymen should regard the distinctions of rank with such supreme indifference is natural from not having grown up under their influ- ence, and from their habit of employing their reason only in estimating men and thinrs. Your institutions rest upon this foundation only, whilst ours constantly appeal to the imagination. Your view of French society is cor- rect, for rank in losing its former wealth is vastly diminished in importance, and to the unspeakable honour of my country, intellect holds preeminence. So sensible am I of the fact that capacity in French esteem takes precedence of all illusion, that I writhe under the cruel and unnecessary expatriation of my family. Why should I, merely because I am the nephew of Napoleon, be expelled from France, and forced to drag out my existence in exile? Why should I be cut off from the privilege the humblest French- rnaii enjoys, of employing his faculties for the benefit of his country and the honor of his name? The policy of the monarchy is clearly to exclude me from every chance of winning the respect of my countrymen. but such glaring injustice must be, I feel, repugnant to them. Such reflections as these, Monseigneur, I interposed, must keep your mind in perpetual irritation. It is impossible to shut them out, and their constant recurrence must alternately arouse you to fury, or drive you to despair. To leave out of the question the deep love of the nation for the Emperor, the kindly natures of the French must rebel against your harsh treatment by Bourbon royalties, and daily proof he attracted attention, which his easy manners and unpretendingdemeaflOrsOOn enlivened into compliment. Numerous demonstrations were made in his honor in all part& of the Union, and it is said that many of our western Hoosiers agreed. that in spite of his title, if lie would settle out thar, they would run him for Congress. Ills finished eloquence commanded univer -sal admiration. * CoL Webb of the Courier and Enquirer. ~84S.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 211 is afforded of this both through the press and tribune, and by men of the highest consequence. I am embMdened by your frankness, Prince, to express all my surprise and delight to hear a person of your exalted rank speak so plainly of the conditions requisite in France at this epoch to ob- tain influence and position. Your name is, undoubtedly, an immense advantage, but it is accompanied ~y an equal drawback, for the world will be hardly satisfied with anything in a Bonaparte short of the genius of the Emperor. The comparison must be fearful to any man. For my part but I fear with my American laisser aller, that I may chance to offend your highness by the too blunt expression of my views. Nay, answered the Prince, it is pleasing from its very novelty. There are few who approach me who have any interest in speaking can- didly on any subject, and I receive only such opinions as are supposed will be most agreeable; very few, indeed, are meant only to benefit me. Pray go on, and say in your own way, and to the full extent, whatever strikes you. Let me hope there is nothing in my manner that imposes any re- straint. On the contrary, Monseigneur, your extreme amiability charms me into forgetfulness of my whereabouts, and frequently of whom I am ad- dressing. Since your highness is so encouraging, I will take the liberty of saying that you are the only person of rank I ever met who seemed thor- oughly unconscious of the fact; besides, it is so natural for an American to display his republican bias, that I feel I am running the risk at every moment of committing some affront to your monarchical sentiments. Oh, there, said the Prince, smiling, you do me injustice. You quite overlook my claims to republican ideas and habits, by forgetting that I was educated for the most part in a republican country. Bred among the single-minded and pure-hearted mountaineers of Switzerland; early in- nured to their unaffected manners and simple tastes, where should I con- tract the arrogant bearing and dissembling selfishness of the habitues of a court? The truth is, I have learned after many rude lessons, that a repub- lican school is not exactly the sort of training that fits a man best to cope with the artifice of designing men.* Were we to enter on a discussion of politics, it might turn out that our views were not altogether dissimilar, though, perchance, I might not agree with you that, because republican *lt will be interestin,, to append, in connection with the above remarks of the Prince, the following admirably written sketch of him, by Louis Blanc, in the able work already quoted from. It is only fair to say, that it was published some five years, or more, prior to the period I am writing of: To know how to command ones own heart, to be insensible and patient, to care for nothing but the end in view, to dissemble; not to expend ones daring on mere projects, but to reserve it wholly for action; to urge men to d evotedness without putting too much faith in it; to traffic with baseness whilst seeing through it; to despise men; to seem strong in order to become so and to make oneself creatures less through gratitude which wearies zeal, than through hope which stimulates it: such is, in the egotist and vulgar meaning of the phrase, the genius of the ambitious. Now, Prince Louis Bonap:irte possessed scarcely any of its constit- uent elements, whether ~ood or evil. His easily moved sensibility exposed him unarmed to the spurious officiousness of subalterns. Through haste or good-nature, be sometimes erred in his judgment of men The impetuosity of his wishes deceived him or hurried him away. Endowed with a straightforwardness injurious to his designs, he exhibited, in rare combina- tion, the elevation of soul that loves the truth, and the weakness of which fiatterers take ad- vantage. He was prodigal of himself to augment the number of his partisans. He possessed, in a word, neither the art of husbanding his resources, nor that of dexterously exaggerating their importance. But, on the other hand, he was generous, enterprising, prompt in military exercises, and the uniform sat upon him with a manly grace. There was no braver officer, no more gallant cavalier. Though the expression of his countenance was gentle, rather than energetic and imperious, though there was an habitual languor in his looks, often dashed with thought, no doubt the soldier would have loved him for his frank hearina, his honest and hearty speech, his small figure resembling his uncles, and the imperial lightning which the passion of the moment kindled in his blue eye. What a name, too, was his ! 212 Prince Napoleon Loisi Bonaparte. [September, truths were the soundest, they must necessarily succeed on a premature trial. But what were you going to say just now of the Emperor ? Simply, I replied, that were he living, his very genius would ren- der him the most unfitting to take the control of affairs in France. his in- tellect was so active, profound and pervading, that he must lead and rule in all things. In war, unity is necessary to success, and a despotic will has then its compensation; but in affairs of legislation it is far otherwise, and in this democratic epoch, deference must be paid to the popular will. Could a natire like Napoleons brook interference with its plans, and could a peo- pIe advanced to where the French now are, submit unmurmuring to a des- potism the most enlightened, even though they saw their profit in it? The good that Napoleon accomplished for France and the world is immeasurable, but in my mind it is all connected with the time when h~ appeared. His advent now would lead to very different results. He neve~ could obtain the same ascendancy, and the force of his will would tend to retard progress, even if he regarded it favorably. Two wills cannot exist well in harmony, and for the good of the state the preponderance must be with the sovereign, or the people. It is now with the people, and would Napoleon, were he living, recognise it ?could he obey it? For that reason I think that any of the younger members of his family, trained up under a fuller development of the popular supremacy, would make a more useful, if less brilliant ruler in France. The loftiest genius, briefly returned the Prince, is so versatile and pliant, that it is impossible to say whether Napoleon now, with the self- same faculties, would not offer altogether a different spectacle for contem- plation. But before it escapes my mind, let me ask if; in your remarks just now respecting American society, you meant to say that occupation exercised no influenge over the position of individuals ? By no means, Prince, I explained; for to imply as much would he t~ overturn my previous statement. In every well-regulated community skill, purely mechanical, must be held in lighter estimation than ability wholly intellectual; but this much I feel justified in asserting, that with every succeeding year, as we recede further and further from our former co- lonial connection with England, our laws become more democratic, and our habits more socialless imbued with that worst feature of aristocracy, exclusiveness. If the rich butcher or successful tailor does not aspire to mingle in our ,best society, there is no one would think of disputing the pretensions of their sons and daughters to taking their place there, if other- wise qualified. The social process with us is somewhat rotatory, in this wise: The enterprising parent accumulates fortune; the high-bred children spend it in a luxurious life; and the third generation are com- pelled to return to work again. Laws of primogeniture and entail would furnish us with different resu1ts.~ But fenced in as society is in England. there are still many individuals of low degree whe, by dint of tact leap over its ~dded palisades. There is the well-known Sir Peter Laurie, Kni~ht, widely acquainted among the aristocracy, who made his fortune as a saddler: and there is the more celebrated Mrs. , who occasionally entertains the Court and first nobility, to the intense mortification of titled and richer rivals for these high honors. It is neither the superior charms of breeding nor intellect, that won for this singular person so hi0h a position. Her way to it was literally strewed with flowers. Videlicit. She took it into her head to LWIl an enormous hot-house. where she raised in great abundance the rarest flowers known in Engbnd. These precious bouquets she bestowed with liberal hand on objects deserving these delicate attentions, and her tact was displayed by carrying on these floral bounties for a long period anonymously. The obliged parties could neither. therefore, refuse or return them, and when the secret in dee time came out, good taste required acknowledgment. Presents were refused, but invitations accepted. The history that enterprising nobodies adopt in Eng- land to breathe the scented atmosphere of aristocratic saloons, would make a highly amusing chapter, had I time or disposition to write it. 1848.] Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. 2V~ VII. My eye here accidentally caught sight of the clock over the mantel, and I discovered with a start that more than half of the four pitiful hours allowed me had already elapsed. I was exceeding anxious to reach the affair of Boulogne, and in order to bring back the Prince to the riar- ration from which he had so pleasantly wandered, I asked him what was his motive in quitting America so early? The harrowing intelligence, he answered, of my dear mothers extreme illness, whose entreaty was that if I valued her dying blessing, to return instantly, and that her only prayer night and day was to live till she should embrace me for the last time. I fled on the wings of the wind back to Switzerland, and had the melancholy satisfaction to watch by her bedside till in a few short weeks she breathed her last in my arms. This blow was the heaviest of my life, continued the Prince, whose voice seemed to waver and weaken as he alluded to this painful event. For a while I sunk down completely under its prostration. rrh0 vanity of life and its hopes filled my mind, and under the chastening influence of this grief I remained dead to ~the deceptions of ambition, and insensible to the provocations which as formerly set in upon me. I gave myself up to the calm excitement of literary pursuits, and not a stray thought ever wandered beyond the ample precincts of my paternal domain. I was awoke from this moral lethargy by the most singular announcement, and one the least called for, and the least expected, that the King of the French had appealed to the Allied Powers to unite with him in compelling me to give up my residence in Switzerland, and in case of refusal, to employ force, if necessary, to effect that purpose. No specific offence was alleged against me for this high-handed outrage on the integrity of a neutral territory, and this unjust invasion of my private rights. Indeed, in the eyes of any sensible person, this pretended appre- hension of a man utterly defenceless, without party or power, without treasure or bayonets, and as my opponents attested, totally deficient in capacity, was not only ridiculous, but took the form of malicious persecu- tion. Had I even been again suspected in fomenting intrigues, or concocting conspiracies, which, after all, could inspire no just alarm, there would not have been a shadow of excuse for this absurd combination of the Euro- pean powers against a single individual barren of every resource. It was a painful sacrifice to be called on to give up the only home endeared to me by numberless ties of sentiment and convenience, and the whole proceeding was so irregular and puerile as naturally to renew those hostile passions which had well nigh expired in my breast. A formal demand, you may remember, was made on the Canton of Berne for my expulsion, but the highspirited descendants of Tell resented with indig.. nation this arrogant requisition of the Allies, and along with their refusal they made known their firm determination to protect the honor of their territory at all hazards, and against every odds. No notice was taken of this courageous menace, and troops were put in motion on all sides to crush at a blow the spirited resistance organizing by the brave moun- taineers. A deadly collision approached. We regret the crowded s!ate of our columns obliges us to postpone to our next the conel sion of this interesting articleED. ~I4 Popular Portraits with Pen and Pencil. [September, POPULAR PORTRAITS WiTil PEN AND PENCIL,* C. J. McDONALD. IN order properly to estimate the worth of the subject of this notize, it would be necessary not only to follow him to the bench, the halls of legislation, and the executive chair, where he shone so pre-eminently, but to contemplate him in the less conspicuous walks of lifeat the office, the bar, nay, in the drawing- room, or by his own hospitable hearth. And we will add, without fear of contra- diction, that the nearer you come to the man himself, the deeper impression he will leave upon you. If popularity be a test of merit, let it be his praise that his popularity is greatest where he is best kno~vn. His kindly heart, his known integrity, his pure mind, his keen and highly cultivated intellect, have secured him that otherwise unaccountable influence which he exercises over all who approach him ;~ and whenever circumstances have made it necessary that he should resign the blessings of a private life to engage in the strife of politics, he has carried with him, and extended over a wider sphere, that weight, that influence, which his personal character had secured for him, and which scarcely ever failed to insure large majorities for himself, or for those whom his convictions made it his duty t~ support. The father of Charles J. McDonald was a native of Scotland, who emi- grated to this country at an early age, and established himself at Charleston, S. C., where he suffered for his attachment to the liberal cause, being confined on board of a prison-ship and kept in close custody until the end of the war, when, with others, he was sent to Philadelphia. He now returned to Charleston, where he again settled himself. Shortly after the birth of the subject of this memoir, he removed with his family to Hancock county, in the state of Georgia. In his new home, the veteran of the revolutionary war was not oblivious of a parents duty to his children. We find Charles J. McDonald the inmate of one of the best schools in Hancock countya school where the Hon. A. H. Chappell and the Hon. Mark A. Cooper re- ceived, at the same time, their eatly education. But the death of his father left him, at an early age, an orphan, with slender means, and, in a measure, unprotected. He was compelled, therefore, to use the ut- most economy and industry, in order to acquire those solid and useful endowments to which his ambition aspired. Frugal, temperate, and perse- vering, young Charles devoted himself to study, and, after a diligent and rapid preparation, entered college at Columbia, South Carolina, where he graduated in 1816. We cannot state to whom is due the credit of first instilling into his mind that thorough knowledge of the law which afterwards made him the ornament of his profession, but we believe that he was admitted as a member of the bar, and commenced to practice, some time in the beginning of the year ~S18. From this period, his advancement in life kept pace only with his rapidly growing reputation and popularity. Great must have been the esteem in which he ~vas held, both in the legal profession and beyond its limits, by the people at large, if we are to judge by the honorable preferments which were showered upon him at the very outset of his legal career. In 1822, four years after he commenced the practice of the law, he was elected Solicitor-General, an office whose duties he discharged with irre- proachable integrity and consummate ability. In the succeeding year, the The following biography, intended to accompany the portrait of the July No. of the Review, baa been delayed by the illness of a friend to whose care its preparation was entrustedlEts D. II

~I4 Popular Portraits with Pen and Pencil. [September, POPULAR PORTRAITS WiTil PEN AND PENCIL,* C. J. McDONALD. IN order properly to estimate the worth of the subject of this notize, it would be necessary not only to follow him to the bench, the halls of legislation, and the executive chair, where he shone so pre-eminently, but to contemplate him in the less conspicuous walks of lifeat the office, the bar, nay, in the drawing- room, or by his own hospitable hearth. And we will add, without fear of contra- diction, that the nearer you come to the man himself, the deeper impression he will leave upon you. If popularity be a test of merit, let it be his praise that his popularity is greatest where he is best kno~vn. His kindly heart, his known integrity, his pure mind, his keen and highly cultivated intellect, have secured him that otherwise unaccountable influence which he exercises over all who approach him ;~ and whenever circumstances have made it necessary that he should resign the blessings of a private life to engage in the strife of politics, he has carried with him, and extended over a wider sphere, that weight, that influence, which his personal character had secured for him, and which scarcely ever failed to insure large majorities for himself, or for those whom his convictions made it his duty t~ support. The father of Charles J. McDonald was a native of Scotland, who emi- grated to this country at an early age, and established himself at Charleston, S. C., where he suffered for his attachment to the liberal cause, being confined on board of a prison-ship and kept in close custody until the end of the war, when, with others, he was sent to Philadelphia. He now returned to Charleston, where he again settled himself. Shortly after the birth of the subject of this memoir, he removed with his family to Hancock county, in the state of Georgia. In his new home, the veteran of the revolutionary war was not oblivious of a parents duty to his children. We find Charles J. McDonald the inmate of one of the best schools in Hancock countya school where the Hon. A. H. Chappell and the Hon. Mark A. Cooper re- ceived, at the same time, their eatly education. But the death of his father left him, at an early age, an orphan, with slender means, and, in a measure, unprotected. He was compelled, therefore, to use the ut- most economy and industry, in order to acquire those solid and useful endowments to which his ambition aspired. Frugal, temperate, and perse- vering, young Charles devoted himself to study, and, after a diligent and rapid preparation, entered college at Columbia, South Carolina, where he graduated in 1816. We cannot state to whom is due the credit of first instilling into his mind that thorough knowledge of the law which afterwards made him the ornament of his profession, but we believe that he was admitted as a member of the bar, and commenced to practice, some time in the beginning of the year ~S18. From this period, his advancement in life kept pace only with his rapidly growing reputation and popularity. Great must have been the esteem in which he ~vas held, both in the legal profession and beyond its limits, by the people at large, if we are to judge by the honorable preferments which were showered upon him at the very outset of his legal career. In 1822, four years after he commenced the practice of the law, he was elected Solicitor-General, an office whose duties he discharged with irre- proachable integrity and consummate ability. In the succeeding year, the The following biography, intended to accompany the portrait of the July No. of the Review, baa been delayed by the illness of a friend to whose care its preparation was entrustedlEts D. II 1848.] Popular Portraits with Pen and Pencil. 215 honorable rank of Brigadier-General was conferred upon him, as if to give him an opportunity to show the versatility of his talents, in the fulfilment of a trust so foreign to the profession of his choice. In 1825, he was elected Judge of the Auckmulgee circuit, to preside over the superior courts in that circuit, in the state of Georgia, an office of more honorary distinction than emolument, to one who, like himself, had it in his power to make his I)ractice as lucrative as it was extensive. He performed the duties of judge in this, then the highest judicial tribunal in the state of Georgia, with distinguished ability, and to the entire satisfac- tion of the country at large. He continued in the discharge of his judicial functions during a period of three years, the term for which he had been elected, and then retired to private life, resuming the practice of his profession, as a barrister, at Macon, a city in the central part of the state, to which he then, or soon afterwards, removed his residence. For more than ten years, until the democracy of his state called hini to fill the highest office in their gift, he continued unremittingly employed in the duties of his profession. Never- theless, although distinguished and successful as a lawyer, he remained still active and zealous as a citizen, whose birthright and whose duty it is to stand by and defend the great leading principles of our social compact; and, during that period, those principles were assailed by the most violent tempest which ever threatened to level to the earth the fair edifice of our federal Union. In the early divisions of parties in that state, Charles 3. McDonald had been identified with the opposition to Mr. Crawford and Governor Troup. When, in 1832, the dark cloud of Nullifica- tion hovered over the political horizon, and threatened to involve the fairest portion of our land in the horrors of civil strife, Georgia seemed deeply infected with the dangerous schism, and, but for the gallant exertions of a patriot band, would probably have been shaken to her very centre by the progress of that pernicious doctrine. But thanks to their efforts, from 1832 until 1840. Georgia rallied to support the measures and the followers of the wise and patriotic statesman who had quelled the storm. Among the leaders of that band were the Hon. John Forsyth, Wilson Luinpkin, William Schley and Chas. J. McDonald. The latter was one of the most zealous and ardent supporters of the principles which had saved the country and then swayed the administration. Thrice, during that period of peril and fearful anxiety, he was returned to the Legislature of Georgia; and there, as elsewhere, he was acknowledged as a staunch advocate of demo- cratic principles, a fearless and successful leader, a skilful manager in de- bate, and a profound legislator. In 1839, Charles J. McDonald was elected to fill the executive chair of the state of Georgia. It was a time of trial and despondency. The embar- rassments of private fortunes were complicated by the wretched condition of the public finances. The statea sovereign statestood on the verge of bankruptcy. Her bonds, to the amount of $300,000, were absolutely under protest. Her taxes were uncollectedher credit utterly ruined and pros- trated. The most energetic measures of reform alone could save her. Fearful was the responsibility of the Executive, if he failed to discover, or delayed in recommending a remedy to the evil; whilst there was enough of prejudice and popular passion to meet, in resorting to the only schemes that were equal to the emergency, to cause the boldest reformer to hesitate. Nothing daunted, Governor McDonald in his annual message, in 1840, thus brings the subject before the Legislature: If, however, the appropriations of the Legislature, which are annually in- creasing in amuunt, are to be met by the Central Bank, their payment must be 216 Popular Portraits with Pen and Pencil. [September, made in the notes of the bank, for the redemption of which no fund is provided; it must cease its operations as a bank, collect its debts, speedily recall its circula- t~on, which creates an obligation paramount to all others, and wind up its affairs. As a timely provision against a measure of this sort, I would recommend to the Legislature a resumption of the entire amount of state taxes, which have for some years been given to the counties, with but little benefit to them, but greatly to the injury of the finances of the state. Upon the recommendation of the Executive, the taxes were improved and ordered to be paid into the treasury, which tended greatly to relieve the exhausted finances of the state, and to enable the Central Bank to meet the heavy drafts made upon it by Legislative appropriations. But still more was needed to put the public credit on a firm basis. Again this subject is thus presented in the annual message of 1841 It (the Central Bank) has for a series of years been taxed with the support of the Government and heavy Legislative appropriations. Its power to do good has been almost destroyed by continual encroachments upon its capital stock, but at no time, have greater ravages been committed upon it, than those suffered during the political year just ended, from the acts of the last and previous Legisla- tures. The sum of four hundred and eighty-nine thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven dollars and three cents has been paid upon requisitions of the last General Assembly; and about the sum of one hundred and thirty-two thousand five hundred and twenty-seven dollars under previous la~vs. - * * The pros- tration of the states credit by the protest of the debt due the Phenix Bank of New-York, is a difficulty against which we have had to struggle; and it has pre- sented a formidable obstacle, in all subsequent attempts at negotiation. Notwith- standing the debt has been paid and all other engagements have been promptly met by the state, the confidence of foreign capitalists in Georgia securities is far from being restored. When suspicion is thrown, either upon our ability or integrity of purpose, by a part of our own citizens, it is not a matter of surprise, that a distrust of us should be excited in those who must depend on others for a character to which we are entitled. It is to be hoped, when the revenue is paid into the public treasury, that there will be no necessity for resorting to loans, to any considerable extent, to sustain the Government or its policy. From these short extracts of the annual messages of Gov. McDonald, in 1840 and 1841, it will be perceived that a most ruinous policy had been pursued in reference to the sinking credit of the state, and that to avoid utter bankruptcy was the constant care of the Governor. During the session of 1841, when it required, all the resources the state could command to sus- tain its credit, the Legislature passed a law reducing the state taxes 20 per- cent., which was promptly vetoed by the Executive. Again, the an- nual message of 1842, after rehearsing the unfortunate policy previously pursued, even in opposition to executive recommendation, further adds that, Up to the 25th ultimo, it (the Central Bank) had paid, under requisitions of the Legislature, the enormous sum of $2,380,549. Of this, the sum of $1,363,649 and 46 cents was paid for works of internal improvement; the balance, amount- ing to 1,240,900 and 4 cents was l)aid on ordirmry appropriations, or such as are usually made annually for the support of government and other purposes. This has been done through a series of years, when the taxes paid by the l)eople were given up wholly or in part to the counties, with little profit to them, but with mani- fest injury to the public interest. These are the palpable causes of embarrass- ment of the government. The message, then, to obviate these evils and restore confidence in the public securities, suggests a series of sound, ~vise, and salutary considera- tions, to the General Assembly. It recommends A small addition to the amount of taxes now paid, judiciously distributed, so as to bear most lightly on those least able to pay, is all that is required to restore 1848.3 Popular Portraits with Pen and Pencil. 217 soundness to the currency. The bank ought, also, to be relieved, forthwith, from all liabilites, except its notes, and the eight per cent. bonds, given for their redeinp- tion. I would, therefore, recommend, says the Governor, the immediate re- peal of the acts of Dec. 23rd, 1840, requiring the Central Bank to ~ay the interest on the public debt, and 75,000 of the principal; the act of the 13th of December last, requiring it to pay the interest on the public de bt, and the act of 23rd Decem- ber, 1840, which, in connection with the resolution therein referred to, requires the directors of the Central Bank to pay the scrip issued by the commissioners of the Western and Atlantic Railroad. Under these acts alone, the Central Bank has paid out little sbort of $600,000; a sum sufficient, if withdrawn from circulation, to restore its notes to credit. ~ * ~ As another means of aiding in the redemp- tion of Central Bank notes, I would recommend the repeal of the act of the 10th December last, to extend the time for fortunate drawers in the land lotteries and in the gold lotteries to take out their grants, and that you limit the time to April next or such other early period as you may consider most expedient and just; and that the lands, then remaining ungranted, be declared reverted to the state, and disposed of in the manner that such lands have heretofore been sold. From these extracts it will be perceived, that the financial affairs of the state were in a most deplorable condition, and every day becoming worse and worse at the time of Goy. McDonalds first election to office; that during the general bank suspension and ruinous derangements of com- merce, trade, and the currency, in 1840, 41 and 42, the state of Georgia, in common with her sister states, suffered severely in her credit, arid, but for the wise counsels, sound policy and zealous devotion of her Governor to her true interests, she must have utterly failed in her credit and become bankrupt. Such services deserved the unbiassed praise of men of all parties, and the gratitude of the people who were blessed with so faithful and so able a steward. Nor was Georgia ungratefbl. During the first term of Governor McDonalds administration, the democratic partythat party whose mea- sures he had so long and so ably advocated and supported, was threatened with entire dissolution. Owing to many temporary and well-known causes, but chiefly, perhaps, to the personal unpopularity and mismanagement of a man who, more than any other, stood indebted to that party, and has since so basely betrayed it, the public will s~ve1led up, like an overwhelming tide, against us, and menaced our very existence. The political fever of the day no where prevailed to a more alarming extent than in Georgia. Her vote was cast for the whig electors of President and Vice President by a majority of nine or ten thousand. The mertibers of Congress who were favorable to the election of General Harrison, were all elected; and the whigs had a de- cided niajority in the state Legislature. It now became the settled aim of the whigs to wrest from the democratic party the control of the executive branch of the state government at the next election, viz. that of 1841. To secure that object, they selected from their ranks the most available and popular candidate, Col. Win. C. Dawson, whose influence and popularity seemed likely to secure for him as triumphant a majority as that which had lately returned him to Congress. Such odds appeared unconquerable; a prudent man would have declined the contest; but Governor McDonald was not a prudent man, at least when prudence dictated the abandonment of his countrys interests. His plan for reforming and reorganizing the finances of the state, though already in full operation, required to be matured and fostered ere its benefits could be well appreciated. Besides, he relied on the intelligence and sympathy of those who had before so truly stood by and supported him; he relied pn the grati- tude of his country; nor did he rely in vain. He was re.elected by a tri- umphant majority, and carried also both branches of the state Legislature. [September, 218 Popular Portraits with Peei and Pencil. During his second term, he applied himself indefatigably to the further completion and development of his system of financial renovation. Nor did he neglect such other branches of the administration as required his vigilant interposition. The constitution of the Judiciary, the composition of the state Legislature, the system of internal improvements, in short, all the vital interests of Georgia required reform, remodelling and reorgar~ization. In a state, constituted like Georgia, with several independent tribunals, acting without concert, and not submitted to the controlling influence of some ultimate Court of dernier resort, nothing could be expected but con- flicting decisions, and a wavering, fluctuating mode of administering justice. With the eye of a lawyer, Gov. McDonald saw the remedy, and with his characteristic energy lost no time in urging its adoption before the Legisla- ture. His annual message of 1843, after pointedly enumerating the defects of the existing system, thus proceeds: It is essential to the security of the citizen, therefore, that these constructions (of the law) should be as certain and stable as the law. They should be uniform. If they have not these attributes, there can be neither stability nor uniforeiiity in the law itself. The administrators of the laws are neither perfect nor infallible. They are liable to err. A community which has eleven judicial heads, has eleven systems of laws and none of them perfect, & c. After thus stating, in brief and nervous sentences, the evils of the prevail- ing system, he pointed out the only adequate corrective, in the organization of a Court of Errors. Ex-Governor McDonald now resides at Marietta, Cobb county, Georgia, where he has again resumed the practice of his profession. In 1847, he permitted his name once more to be used in a political contest. He was run by the democratic party for United States Senator, in opposition to the Hon. John M. Berrien, but was defeated by a few votes, there being at that time a party majority against him in the Legislature. Ex-Governor McDonald has been eminently distinguished, throughout his professional and public career, for a sound, accurate judgment, a keen ap- preciation of passing events, unwavering perseverance, indefatigable indus- try, and all those qualities which unite to form a practical man and a useful member of society. In private life, be has been highly fortunate in attaining and preserving those elements of enjoyment which constitute happiness. With his cheerful disposition, flue intellect, and benevolent manner, he owns the secret of imparting life and pleasure iii any circle where he may chance to move. He has been twice married. His present wife, th~ sister of the late Chan- cellor Roane, of Richmond, Virginia, is a most amiable and accomplished lady. His first wife was the daughter of Mr. Bedney Franklin, formerly Attorney General of the state of Georgia; she was the sister of Judge Ben- jamin Franklin, of the new state of Texas. From this connexion sprung several children, one of whom, Lient. B. F. McDonald, distinguished him- self in five different engagements under Gen. Lane, was highly commended by that gallant officer, and has since been promoted to Brevet rank by the Coin in ander-in-chief. Thus, thrice blessed, in himself, his family, and fortunes, ex-Governor McDonald, in a yet vigorous age, enjoys a position which it is the lot of few to attain. In his past life, lie reads a guarantee of the gratitude of his countr1, in the love and esteem of all those who know him, in the endearing U affection and pre-erninent attractions of his family circle, in the precocious distinction of his offspring, he sees reason to trust in the future; and long may that future still shower fresh blessings upon him, ~snd new rewards the rewards of an honorable and well-spent life. 1848.] The Wilmot Proviso. TilE WILMOT PROVISO. Or all the questions that have agitated the United States of America since the adoption of theQonstitution, there are none that have ever been fraught with so deep and terrible an interest as that contained in the principles of the Wilmot Proviso. The effects and consequences of a National Bank, a Sub-Treasury, a high TariflI the distribution of the pro- ceeds arisincr from the sale of the Public Lands, Internal Improvements, and the questions of Peace or War, all sink into insignificance when compared to the results that must and will follow the carrying into effect the principles involved in that proviso. And these results will be the dissolution of the Union; the bursting asunder those bonds of unity that have preserved the empire, and made us what we are; the annihilation of our power arid influence; the destruction of the Constitution, that sa- cred instrument of our common faith. And, not alone to America would its effects be confined, but they would pass the bounds of this continent and extend beyond the Atlantic, to rivet the fetters of millions yet unborn. But its first and most dangerous tendency, and the one from whence all its greatest evils will spring, is the arraying of the Northern portion of our country against the Southern, and, if not immediately producing civil war, creating and engendering a bitter and undying hatea hate that may forever destroy the unanimity of our councils, and thus enervate the en- ergy of our government. The moment there is a want of energy and power in the legislature of a nation, internal dissensions spring upand internal dissensions have been the cause of the downfall not only of re- publics, but of all states that have risen, flourished, and passed away; and internal dissensions alone, if this nation is ever dismembered, will he the cause of that dismemberment. Yet, with dissolution staring them in the face, and all the mentable consequences that must necessarily follow such an event presented to their view, there are a set of men who, (as it has been said of a class precisely similar,) so far from comprehending the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel in the ma- chine. These men, composed as they are of broken down politicians and disappointed office-seekers, banded together for an unholy purpose, are eiideavoring to enforce that principle by declamatory appeals to the passions of the multitude, and, unless counteracted by the sound sense of the sober and reflecting part of the community, will light the torch of civil war, and extinguish for ever the spirit of liberty upon American soil. Will men of judgment and patriotism give their countenance and support to a cause like this? And are they willing to cultivate and water the tree of discord, already rooted, until their country is sunk on a level with that upon our southern border? No! no! The warning voice that comes from the annals of the pastthe voice of him sleeping among the dead at Mount Vernon, with its deep and solemn tones telling us to be- ware of internal dissensions, will have its effect upon all those who have any regard for exalted wisdom and acknowledged worth. We know that such men as we have mentioned will disregard this, for they are regardless of every thing that will not fill their pockets with dollars, or give them a lucrative office. They would sell their countrys rights, barter her honor, and betray her liberties, for a far less sum than that which was the price of Arnolds treason; their opinions are as fickle as the sands of the desert;

1848.] The Wilmot Proviso. TilE WILMOT PROVISO. Or all the questions that have agitated the United States of America since the adoption of theQonstitution, there are none that have ever been fraught with so deep and terrible an interest as that contained in the principles of the Wilmot Proviso. The effects and consequences of a National Bank, a Sub-Treasury, a high TariflI the distribution of the pro- ceeds arisincr from the sale of the Public Lands, Internal Improvements, and the questions of Peace or War, all sink into insignificance when compared to the results that must and will follow the carrying into effect the principles involved in that proviso. And these results will be the dissolution of the Union; the bursting asunder those bonds of unity that have preserved the empire, and made us what we are; the annihilation of our power arid influence; the destruction of the Constitution, that sa- cred instrument of our common faith. And, not alone to America would its effects be confined, but they would pass the bounds of this continent and extend beyond the Atlantic, to rivet the fetters of millions yet unborn. But its first and most dangerous tendency, and the one from whence all its greatest evils will spring, is the arraying of the Northern portion of our country against the Southern, and, if not immediately producing civil war, creating and engendering a bitter and undying hatea hate that may forever destroy the unanimity of our councils, and thus enervate the en- ergy of our government. The moment there is a want of energy and power in the legislature of a nation, internal dissensions spring upand internal dissensions have been the cause of the downfall not only of re- publics, but of all states that have risen, flourished, and passed away; and internal dissensions alone, if this nation is ever dismembered, will he the cause of that dismemberment. Yet, with dissolution staring them in the face, and all the mentable consequences that must necessarily follow such an event presented to their view, there are a set of men who, (as it has been said of a class precisely similar,) so far from comprehending the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel in the ma- chine. These men, composed as they are of broken down politicians and disappointed office-seekers, banded together for an unholy purpose, are eiideavoring to enforce that principle by declamatory appeals to the passions of the multitude, and, unless counteracted by the sound sense of the sober and reflecting part of the community, will light the torch of civil war, and extinguish for ever the spirit of liberty upon American soil. Will men of judgment and patriotism give their countenance and support to a cause like this? And are they willing to cultivate and water the tree of discord, already rooted, until their country is sunk on a level with that upon our southern border? No! no! The warning voice that comes from the annals of the pastthe voice of him sleeping among the dead at Mount Vernon, with its deep and solemn tones telling us to be- ware of internal dissensions, will have its effect upon all those who have any regard for exalted wisdom and acknowledged worth. We know that such men as we have mentioned will disregard this, for they are regardless of every thing that will not fill their pockets with dollars, or give them a lucrative office. They would sell their countrys rights, barter her honor, and betray her liberties, for a far less sum than that which was the price of Arnolds treason; their opinions are as fickle as the sands of the desert; 2~O The Wit-not Proviso. [September, their principles sit so lightly that they can cast them down and take them up at pleasure. These are the men who urge upon our legislature the passage of an act, not only unjust and dangerous, hut, according to all international law, illegalan act that also violates our Constitution, and the rights guarantied to the citizens by that instrument. It is an act which, however potent and mighty for evil, is weak ~nd powerless for good; and by a careful examination of the principle involved, it will appear that these assertions are well founded. That principle is the confining of slavery within its present limits; the exclusion of that institution, by the enactment of stringent laws, from all territories belonging to the na- tion. Now, territory is a part of the public wealth. it is property belonging to the whole. It is that in which all have a common interest. if purchased, it has been purchased by money taken from the public treasury: if conquered, it has been conquered by the united arms of the whole nation. Every individual, therefore, as composing a part of the nation, the whole, or the body politic, has an interest in that territory; he is entitled to that property as a tenant in joint tenancy; and, as such, he has a legal right to use and enjoy that interest under the law hy which it was acquired, which right cannot be taken from him without his con- sent. This is the fundamental condition of the social compact as regards property. Ja this light it is regarded hy all writers upon the law of nations. it is so laid down by Vattel, in his chapter on public common and private property, 236, where he says that, When a nation in a body takes possession of a country, every thing that is not divided among its members remains common to the whole nation. And in 248 he again says, that all the members of a community have an equal right to the use of their common property. Then, this being the law, is it not evident that a citizen of a slave-holding state is equally entitled to the public land with the one who comes from a state where slavery does not exist 3 is not the one a citizen of the United States as well as the other 3 and, being so, are not their rights equal? Was it not as much the money or the arms of one that purchased or conquered this property, as that of the other? Then, with equal rights and privileges, how can the North claim superior rights to those of the Souththe right of one interest to exclude that of the other? But, say the advocates of the Wilmot Proviao, we do not intend to ex- clude from the territories the slave-holder; we only define in what manne