CHAMBERS' EDINBURGH JOURNAL

 CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF 'CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE, ' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE, ' &c. 

 No. 453. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1852. PRICE 1-1/2_d. _

A POSSIBLE EVENT. 

Occupied as most of us are with our respective worldly concerns, andaccustomed to see the routine of common events going on smoothly fromage to age, we are little apt to reflect on natural events of atremendous character, which modern science shews might possiblyhappen, and that on any day of any year. We think of the land as afirm and solid thing--as _terra firma_, in short--not recollectingthat geology shews how it may rise or sink, so as to pass into newrelations to the enveloping sea; how it may be raised, for instance, to such an extent as to throw every port inland, or so far lowered asto submerge the richest and most populous regions. No doubt, therelations of sea and land have been much as they are during historicaltime; but it is at the same time past all doubt, that the last greatgeological event, in respect of most countries known, was asubmergence which produced the marine alluvial deposits; and when wefind that Scandinavia is slowly but steadily rising in some parts atthis moment, and that a thousand miles of the west coast of SouthAmerica rose four feet in a single night only thirty years ago, wecannot feel quite assured, that the agencies which produced thatsubmergence, and the subsequent re-emergence, are at an end. Welikewise forgot, in these cool districts of the earth, that we are notquite beyond the hazard of subterranean fire. There are numberlessextinct volcanoes in both Britain and France; there are some on thebanks of the Rhine; indeed, they are thick-sown everywhere. Now, anextinct volcano is not quite so safe a neighbour as many may suppose. Vesuvius was an extinct volcano from time immemorial till the year 63, when it suddenly broke out again, and soon after destroyed Pompeii andHerculaneum; since which time it has never again subsided into entireinactivity. Suppose Arthur's Seat, which is 'within a mile ofEdinburgh town, ' were to recommence business in like manner, we shouldlike to know at how many years' purchase house property in thatbeautiful New Town would be selling next day. Yet what is there aboutan old volcano here more than an old volcano in Italy, to giveassurance that its means of annoyance and destruction are absolutelyextinguished?

There is, however, in the showings of science, a more serious dangerthan any of these. Comets were once regarded as most terrific objects, but only in a superstitious way, perplexing nations with fear ofchange, and shaking pestilence from their horrid hair. During anintermediate enlightened time, these notions passed away; and we haveeven come to think, that such a visitant of our skies may exercise abeneficial influence. We at least recollect when old gentlemen, afterdinner, brightened up at the mention of 'claret 1811, ' merrilyattributing the extraordinary merits of the liquor to the comet ofthat year. But comets, in the cool eye of modern science, are notwithout their terrors. Crossing as they often do the paths of theplanets in their progress to and from their perihelia, it cannot butbe that they should now and then come in contact with one of thesespheres. One, called Lexell's, did come athwart the satellites ofJupiter in 1769, and once again in 1779, so as to be deranged in itsown course. It made, indeed, no observable change in the movements ofthe Jovian train, being of too light a consistence for that; but canwe doubt, that it might nevertheless seriously affect the condition oftheir surfaces, and especially any animal life existing thereon? Thisvery comet, on the 28th of June 1770, passed the earth at a distanceonly six times that of the moon. There is another called Biela's, which revisits the sun every six years, or a little more; and thisbusy traveller actually crossed our orbit in 1832, only a month beforewe passed through the same point in space! Another, which made a grandappearance in the western sky in March 1843, would have involved us inits tail, if we had been only a _fortnight_ earlier at a particularplace! Rather fine shaving that in the celestial economics. Now, if weconsider that as many as eight comets have been observedtelescopically in a single year (1846), we must see that the chance ofa collision of this kind is not quite so small as to be unworthy ofregard. If it be true that there are thousands of comets, all of whichmake periodical visits to the near neighbourhood of the sun, it mustbe evident that the earth, being itself not far, comparativelyspeaking, from that luminary, must be rather liable as otherwise to abrush from one of these wanderers; and, indeed, the wonder is, thatseveral thousand years should have passed without, so far as we know, any one such collision having taken place. 

Seeing what a highly-organised system is formed by the physical andorganic arrangements upon our planet, one is apt to think that thescheme of Providence must have been framed with a provision for thecomplete exclusion of such accidents. To allow of the sudden undoingof all this fair scene, which it has taken thousands of years to bringout in its full proportions, seems like a wanton destruction ofvaluable property, and we are not disposed to believe that such athing could be permitted. But we must at the same time remember, thatour sense of what is important and consequential has a regard to theearth alone, which is but a trifling atom in the universe. Who cantell what are the limits which the Master of worlds has set to mundanecalamity? And assuredly, even though a whole solar system were hereand there, now and then, to be remodelled in respect of all sucharrangements as have been spoken of, it could not be supposed to be avery great event in the progress of the entire scheme, seeing thatastronomy has taught us to regard such systems as no more thanparticles in the dust-cloud or grains of sand on the sea-shore. Itmust, then, in sober reasoning be admitted, that our mere abhorrenceof so much destruction is no guidance to our judgment on this point;and that for anything we can see of the plans of Providence, anentanglement of our globe with a comet may take place any day, withconsequences incalculably damaging for the meantime, though notconclusively destructive, and perhaps necessary as a step towards animproved system of things--the bringing in of what Ben Jonson calls'an age of better metal. '

In the frame of mind which these speculations induce--not very greatlyalarmed about such extraordinary contingencies, yet not insensible tothe solemnity of the thought of what may come to pass even before ourliving eyes--it is curious, and not necessarily unpleasant, toconsider what might be the actual phenomena attending a cometarycollision. We know not what comets are composed of, but are certainthat they consist of some palpable matter, however diffused, for theyobserve the rules of motion in their revolutions round the sun. On thewhole, the most plausible supposition as to their composition, is thatwhich regards them as watery vapour or cloud, of great tenuity. Howlike, for example, to the doings of a cloud, is the splitting intotwo, which has been occasionally observed in them! Well, if they beclouds, the coming of one into contact with our earth would mostlikely deposit with us an immense addition to our stock of water. Itwould be instantaneous, or nearly so. Only think of a sudden fall ofwater sufficient to raise the ocean a hundred feet, and submerge allparts of the land which were less than that height above the presentlevel of the sea! There would, of course, be a fearful abridgment ofour continents; all big islands would be made little; and many littlerones would cease to be. The surviving lands would be so swept by theflood, that scarcely any of the present features would remainunchanged. All animals and movable things would be engulfed. In a fewminutes, this brawling, chattering, bustling world would be stilled inuniversal death. What a settlement of 'questions' there! What a strikeof work! What a command of Silence!

A board of bank directors was hesitating about a bill for L. 100, somethinking it rather indifferent paper, others viewing it morefavourably; when down comes the cometic flood, and while the managerrings his bell to see what is the matter, it enters by doors andwindows, and in an instant closes the whole concern. A criminal courtwas sitting in expectation of the return of the jury with theirverdict. There was one thinking that death may not be far from hisdoor, and a hundred pitying him in the contrast of their own assurancefrom the imminent foe, when lo! the flood, and judges, jury, criminal, and sympathising audience, are all instantly on a level. A sanitarycommission was deliberating on impediments to the bringing in of freshand the taking away of foul water, and wondering if there ever wouldbe a body of their denomination which could do anything it wished todo for the benefit of a mild, expectant, inactive, suffering public. The comet pours in its fresh water on the instant, and the wholedifficulties of the case are at once resolved. A synod had been calledto consider some nice point, hardly palpable to common understandings, but which everybody thought a very important point notwithstanding, and three gentlemen speaking at once to contrary purposes were aboutto be interrupted by a fourth of a different opinion still, when entercomet--a real Moderator--and at one stroke decides what poor mankindhad been wrangling about for centuries, and what, to all appearance, but for this 'redding straik, ' they would have wrangled about forcenturies to come. Lord Augustus Anser had demanded satisfaction ofthe Honourable Mr Pavo for an injurious remark, and they wereproceeding by railway to make a deadly end of it, when, lo! the cometdashes in like an undesired train from a siding, and quashes one ofthe prettiest quarrels which has happened for a twelvemonth. There wasan unpleasant dispute with America about a herring-barrel, and barrelsof a different kind were likely to be resorted to to settle it. TheAdmiralty was all astir as to how many vessels it might be necessaryto set afloat for the business. Brother Jonathan was calculating whatcould be made of the crisis in working out the election of apresident. The comet takes upon itself to set the whole naval force ofboth countries afloat--the 'origo mali' too--and at the same time tocountermand the presidential election. So that matter passes. Anotherpresident was on the point of electing himself emperor--a loving pairwas about to be wed--the Court of Chancery was just commencing acareer of reform--a new author was starting into fame with the mostbrilliant novel of the season--when the comet thwarts every hope. Lloyd's had never calculated on such an accident. On 'Change, if therehad been time for a moment's remark, it would have been regarded as amost unheard-of thing. The life-assurance companies, having in theirtables made no allowance for such a contingency, would have beenruined by so many policies 'emerging' (oh, word of mockery!) at once, had it not been that there were no survivors to claim the variousamounts. Debts, bonds, contracts, obligations of all kinds, in likemanner were absolved by the comet, and Creation itself left to open anew score in, it is to be hoped, a less blotted book. 

Considered as a reform, our possible event must be viewed with greatinterest. The patriot's heart is broken, in the ordinary current ofthings, by the passive resistance he meets with from the great, inertmass of prejudice and contrary interest. His most generous views arethwarted by thousands of accidents which there was no foreseeing whenhe put the affair down on paper. Tories hate and scandalise him;despots put him in prison; he only can bequeath his scheme to bewrought out by the happy man of a happier age. Here, however, comes mein a besom which sweeps all the old peccant institutions away at onewhisk. Church and state are severed, and for ever. The Holy Allianceagainst the liberties of mankind is broken up--the pomp and corruptionof courts is annihilated--bribery and bigotry are no more. What aclean sweep!--how hopeless reaction! Surely the most extravagant viewsof the Destructives must be gratified and contented at last. 

If the event shall ever happen, it cannot be doubted that the presentMankind will leave many interesting memorials of themselves and theirprogress for the examination of a new race, should such ever arise. When the geologist of the after-world begins his work--who can tellhow many hundreds of thousands of years hence?--he will find, over allour stratification and palæontology, a DRIFT containing the remains ofthe ancient human species--here a _tibia_ of a stockbroker, there theskull of a poet--here a lady's dressing-case in a fossilised state, there a gentleman's box of cigars: besides all these odds and ends, there will doubtless be ruins of temples, fortresses, ships, gin-palaces, and other pertinents of an active, passionate humanity, the purposes of which will form most curious matter of speculation forthe more angelic species then at last come upon the earth. Nothing inwriting or print will have survived to convey an idea of the state ofour knowledge, or of the attainments of our great writers; but it ispossible that a few inscriptions may be disinterred, and that throughthese some glimpses may be obtained of our history, though of a mostdetached and confused nature. Probably, the most puzzling thing of allwill be our warlike implements and munitions; for to one who neverthought of harming his neighbour, how incomprehensible must be anytool designed expressly for that purpose! If the intent of thesearticles be penetrated, they will doubtless be ranged in museums ascurious monuments of passions long extinct, just as we see theinstruments of torture used by the Inquisition and other ancientjudicatories hung up in antiquarian collections of our own day. 

Well, well, my dear brethren--you have read thus far without, I hope, being too much distressed by the idea of the physical contingencies towhich it is shewn we are liable. Probably you have, each of you, toomany matters of sore concern pressing closely upon you, to be muchincommoded by possibilities of so infinitesimal a character. Itcannot, nevertheless, be amiss, that you should know these amongstother things that may any day leap from the laps of the Parcæ, were itonly to expand your souls a little with things superior to the eternalcommonplaces of life. It is, after all, a great thing to be a part ofso great a system as that revealed to us in the external frame ofthings, and to feel in what a mighty hand our destiny lies. Even inthe danger of what is here styled a Possible Event, there is agrandeur--both as to the event itself, and the Power under whosepermission it will, if at all, take place, and our filial relations tothat Power, which never leaves us without hope--which, to a high andpurified mind, must be felt as more than reconciling. 

BARTHOLD GEORGE NIEBUHR. 

We have been reading with profound interest the life and letters ofone of the great men of Germany, Barthold Niebuhr, published veryrecently in an English garb. [1] The original work we have not seen, but we understand it is about one-third larger than the presentselection, made in a great measure under the auspices of the ChevalierBunsen, the friend of Niebuhr, and his immediate successor in thePrussian embassy to Rome. The interest of the book is, indeed, principally derived from the private letters of Niebuhr, the greaterpart of which were addressed to his early friend, Mme Hensler, whoseyounger sister was his first wife, and her niece his second. Mostunfortunately, the valuable series of his letters to his father wasdestroyed by fire a short time before his own death; but the accountgiven of him by Mme Hensler is quite sufficient to connect all thatremains; and from this, and one or two other sources open to us, weshall try to fill up our present narrative. 

Niebuhr is one of those men whose advent forms an era in the historyof human knowledge. It is a mistake, however, to suppose that he wasthe first to infuse even into Roman story that element of doubt whichhas changed the whole fabric of historical science. If Niebuhr was amere sceptic, he would be only the humble follower of Bayle, Lesurgnesde Pouilly, and other writers of the last century; but his merit liesin reconstruction--in the jealous care with which he distinguishesbetween the true monuments of history and the mass of traditionalrubbish in which they lay entombed. In his Roman history, however, although by that alone he is known in England, we find only a portionof the intellectual man: he was learned in the learning of all times, modern as well as ancient; and yet he was so completely immersed, notmerely as an observer, but as a participator, in the business of theworld and the great events of his own time, that even literature seemsto have been little more than a study indulged in during the pauses ofactive life. The history of a mind so vast is by no means, we areaware, adapted for pages like ours; and yet it seems important--indeedindispensable--that in a popular journal, flowing on with the spiritof the age, we should trace some authentic records of the characterand career of the man. 

Carsten Niebuhr, the father of the historian, had not the advantagesof early education. He was no more than a free peasant, living on themarsh-farm in Friesland, which had been possessed by severalgenerations of his ancestors; but at the age of two-and-twenty he puthimself under mathematical tutorship at Hamburg, and then studied atGottingen. He was invited to join a mission which the Danishgovernment determined to send into Arabia; and the proposal, at firstscarcely made in earnest to the half-educated young farmer, wasaccepted by him with eagerness. By a singular fatality, he was theonly one of the travellers sent out on this expedition who returned;he was absent more than six years, during four of which he was alone, all his companions being dead. He had added largely to what waspreviously known of Egypt; had made scientific observations of greatvalue in the deserts of Arabia, and undergone prodigious hardships;but the most remarkable thing was, that his eagerness to fulfil insome measure the purposes of the expedition, made the whole journey awork of preparation and study, as well as of actual exploration. In1773, being then just forty years of age, he married the orphandaughter of Dr Blumenberg, a Thuringian physician, and lived atCopenhagen, with the rank of captain of engineers, till the year 1778. He then removed to Meldorf, a town in the province of Ditmarsch, Holstein, where he settled for life as collector of the revenues ofthe district. 

Barthold George Niebuhr was born in Copenhagen on the 27th of August1776; but with the little old town of Meldorf--once the capital of anancient commonwealth--his earliest associations were connected. A kindof rude equality still reigned in the manners of the rusticpopulation, which was not likely to be disturbed by the influx of theworld into a bleak and gloomy district remote from the great roads. Here young Niebuhr grew up a studious and solitary boy; instructed byhis father in French, the rudiments of Latin, and above all, ingeography and history, which the old traveller taught him toillustrate by maps and plans, and by digging regular fortifications inthe garden. The sheriff of Meldorf, and editor of the _DeutschesMuseum_, a man of both fancy and learning, assisted in this earlyeducation; and the boy--who had never been a child--employed himself, even at seven years of age, in writing down the instructions hereceived. In future years, he regretted his having thus 'lost the lifeof a child. ' 'I found matter for my childish fancy only in books, engravings, or conversation. I drew into its sphere all I read, and Iread without reason and without aim; but the real world was closed tome, and I could not conceive or imagine anything which had not beenfirst conceived or imagined by another. '

From this _second-hand world_ he removed at the age of thirteen, whenhe was sent to the school at Meldorf, where the principal, Dr Jäger, gave him as much attention as he could spare for a pupil, who, thoughmuch the youngest, was the most advanced in the class. Afterwards, finding it was impossible to do for him what this strange childrequired, Dr Jäger advised his removal, and gave him a private lessonof an hour every day instead. This was continued with only a fewmonths' interruption and unsuccessful trial of a school at Hamburg, till Barthold was eighteen, when he was sent to the university ofKiel. 

His interest in politics dated from a very early period. At the age ofeleven, he studied the newspapers, English ones especially, which heread with ease; and his knowledge of geography enabled him to followall the details of a campaign with vivid interest. 

His going to the university was an important incident in his life. Hisparticular vocation, indeed, seems to have been clear enough from evenan earlier period; for though he was a learned linguist, historyespecially, and philology, were the pursuits to which his heart wasgiven. The letters he wrote from Kiel to his parents are amiable, fullof affectionate outpourings about the new men and women to whom he wasintroduced, about his studies, and about his theories. He profits bythe kindness of the physician, Dr Hensler, whose house and friendlyadvice were always accessible; but he declines evening-parties; andcontemplates the mountain of knowledge, up whose steep sides he hasyet to climb, with profound awe and some anxiety. 'My head swims whenI survey what I have yet to learn--philosophy, mathematics, physics, chemistry, natural history. Then, too, I must perfect myself inhistory, German, and French; study Roman law, and the politicalconstitutions of Europe, as far as I can, &c. ; and all this must bedone within five years at most. . . . I _must_ know all these things; buthow I shall learn them, Heaven knows! That I shall require them as alearned man, or in any position I may occupy, I am fully convinced. '

In Dr Hensler's house he saw frequently Mme Hensler, the widow of thedoctor's son. She was six years older than Niebuhr; but to him, unusedto female society, and admitted at once into domestic familiarity witha sensible and engaging woman, this disparity was nothing--perhaps, indeed, it added to the charm. From other sources, we learn that he atfirst became attached to Mme Hensler herself; but being discouraged asa lover, allowed her to introduce him to her younger sister, AmeliaBehrens, a beautiful and intellectual woman; and although theattachment he then formed was not sudden or violent, it became veryprofound. After his engagement with this lady in 1797, and before hismarriage, he visited England; and in Scotland--chiefly inEdinburgh--he spent nearly a year. The account given in his letters ofhis sojourn in our capital, would interest and amuse many of itspresent inhabitants. The Edinburgh of 1797 was more differentperhaps from its present self in outward things, than in mentalcharacteristics. His remarks on the want of a more open manifestationof feeling and affection among his friends there are striking. 'It isquite a national trait, ' he says, 'not to dwell on what concerns uspersonally, upon what fills our heart; and it is as unnatural to themto hear me speak of the topics upon which I am feeling strongly, as itwould be to do the same themselves. . . . I am far from attributing it tocoldness in these good people. It is altogether national, and it isthe same with every one I have known here, whatever their rank, calling, learning, or sex. It has quite surprised me, for example, that if you meet a person in whose family some one has been ill, hewill hardly allude to it, beyond a short answer to your inquiries, orspeak of it with any feeling. In this way, it must be allowed, peoplemay easily be independent of each other. I believe firmly that theScots love their children--that Playfair is a good father; and yet theformer only speak of them because they have them with them in theevenings, and the boys make their presence known: the latter behavesexactly as if his boy were not in the room. So far from inviting me tospeak of my relations, so far from Mr Scott making any inquiries as tomy father's position--though he is, nevertheless, as much attached tohim as possible--they have met every attempt on my part to talk tothem on these subjects with a silence which admits of no otherexplanation, than that it is not in good taste to say much about thesethings. They have never once asked after my mother and sister. ' Wehave copied the above, because there is no trace in any part ofNiebuhr's writings, former or latter, of narrow national judgments;and he repeatedly bears testimony to the fatherly kindness with whichhe was welcomed, especially in the two houses mentioned in the aboveextract. It is simply the sense of a difference, and a difference weshould be inclined to regret as well as he, between the German and theEnglish or Scotch habit. We shall never forget the earnest, _pained_manner in which a young German in England once said, when adverting tothe case of some very irreproachable English youths, who yet werenever heard to express a feeling, scarcely to utter a kind thing:'Your young countrymen seem to me positively _ashamed_ of being good. '

The diligence of Niebuhr, though often impeded by illness, wasimmense. Languages, philosophy, history, natural science, all tooktheir turn. His number of languages was not short of twenty at thistime, and in some he was profoundly versed--in most, very respectably. But the most remarkable thing through life was his memory, and itswonderful combination of retentiveness and readiness. This, ratherthan the imaginative power, it was that made his descriptions sographic. Seeing and retaining everything, he painted as if all historywas before him. When he spoke of a striking event, the coast, themountain-line, or the plain, all the accompaniments rose up and weregrouped before him. You felt carried away with him, as if he had livedthere, and was taking you up by the way. 

His return to Denmark took place late in 1799. A double appointmentawaited him at Copenhagen--two government offices, neither bringing ina large salary, but sufficient to allow of his marrying; andaccordingly Amelia Behrens became his wife in May 1800. The fivefollowing years found him engaged in the civil service atCopenhagen--sometimes in very onerous and uncongenial duties, sometimes in a position of peril, for the bombardment of the cityunder Nelson took place in 1801, and he keenly entered into everypolitical incident. During this period of five years, his officialservice was more than once changed, but it seems always to have beenconnected with finance. He still found time for study, straining everypower of his mind, he says, at one time in investigating Romanhistory, sure 'that the representations of all the moderns, withoutexception, are but mistaken, imperfect glimpses of the truth. ' ThisCopenhagen life allowed him time but for one visit to his parents; anda disappointment which annoyed him considerably, in what, he thought, a just expectation of preferment, disposed him, in 1806, to accept anoffer from the Prussian government of a post at Berlin not unlike thathe had occupied in Copenhagen, but promising many advantages insociety and literary opportunities. 

Never was there a more disastrous commencement of a new career. TheNiebuhrs reached Berlin in October 5, 1806, and on the 14th came thedreadful battles of Jena and Auerstadt, while Napoleon, with hisconquering army, marched rapidly upon the city, and seven of thePrussian ministers gave in their allegiance to the French without eventhe ceremony of communicating with their king. The new bank-directorshared in the general misfortune, and was forced to fly, with thecourt and ministry, first to Danzig, then to Konigsberg, afterwards toMemel and Riga. A fearful time it was; yet still Niebuhr could writesoothingly to his parents: 'You must not be uneasy: I can earn aliving either as a scholar or a merchant; and if I do not succeed inone country, I shall in another. ' To Mme Hensler also he wrotecheeringly, but under caution, for all letters were unsafe. In themeantime, the indefatigable student took the opportunity of learningRussian and Sclavonic. 

It is difficult to follow out his course distinctly during the nextthree and a half trying years. He was always employed in the financedepartment, and for some little time was a privy-councillor; but hediffered widely in his views from some of those with whom he worked. His letters shew the most conscientious desire to put aside everythought of personal ease, and to avert from the poor people around, ifpossible, some part of the calamity which hostile armies and badgovernment entailed on them; and it is delightful to observe hisperfect honesty and plainness of speech as a statesman--his high ideasof truthfulness in all things. Yet they were mournful years; and hishealth at last thoroughly failing, he sent in his resignation to theking of Prussia, and solicited the office of historiographer, vacantby the death of Müller. This was granted; and in 1810, he and his wifeonce more found a settled home at Berlin. 

And now came the happiest time of his life; though the great delicacyof his wife's health was an obstacle to the feeling of security, andthough still the menaces of Napoleon sounded fearfully loud, if notclose at hand. The breathing-time, however, was delightful. Theuniversity of Berlin was now just opened, and thither came intelligentprofessors, men of renown in art and science, in knowledge and wisdom. As historiographer to the king, Niebuhr's part was to lecture onhistory; and now, for the first time, the treasures he had long beenamassing came into direct use as the means, through his management, ofinstructing other minds. He had never before delivered publiclectures, and his advantages in manner were not great; but the successof his first essays on the history of Rome, proves how solid and realmust have been the information he had to bestow. He was attended notmerely by the young men, but by members of the academy, by professors, by military and public men of all grades. It is no wonder that hesucceeded thus: he was half a Roman by nature and feeling. 

So passed the happy years of his professorship. But again the noise ofwar was heard, and he and all his coadjutors had to take up arms, andfight the battle of Prussia against the great tyrant of Europe. Mosttouching anecdotes are told of the bravery and fine behaviour of thenative troops. Perhaps no war was ever more nobly sustained, and withsuch anxious avoidance of cruelty. What a moment it was to Prussiawhen the news of Bonaparte's abdication reached the country! whenthere might be some hope of reaping the harvests they had sown, andrebuilding their ruined villages! But the Niebuhrs were never again toknow the calm and happy days they had enjoyed. Mme Niebuhr, who hadlong been declining, was grievously changed for the worse by theanxieties of the war. On the 2d of May 1815, her husband received atBerlin news of his father's death; and on the 21st of June, hisbeloved Amelia followed. The good Mme Hensler, who had taken alarm, was near to soothe her last hours, and to comfort the husband. Niebuhrhad never spoken to his wife of her approaching end: though longing toknow her parting wishes, he dared not break the physician's ordersagainst excitement. Once only, a few days before her death, as he washolding her in his arms, he asked her if there was nothing he could dofor her sake--no pleasure he could give her. She replied, with a lookof unutterable love: 'You shall finish your history whether I live ordie!'

They had no family--he was therefore left alone. At first, nature gaveway, and it seemed as if he had imbibed his wife's disease--pulmonaryconsumption--and that he regarded the legacy as a blessing; but hishigher nature triumphed. He promised Mme Hensler to live, and try toaccomplish his Amelia's wishes, and she, by her kindly influence, wonhim to something more. She saw that to him a lonely life was nearlyimpossible, and she had another partner in store for him--GretchenHensler, a niece of her late husband. Again he took her counsel; andagain, which is perhaps the most extraordinary part of the affair, itproved that she had judged as well for both parties as possible. Therewas no concealment in the matter; the new Mme Niebuhr perfectlyunderstood his character and his sorrow--understood that she could notbe to him what Amelia had been; but she married him in faith and hope, and the life she brought him was peaceful and ultimately happy. 

Then another change had to be made. He could no longer bear Berlin. Every one saw that a different position was desirable, and what betterthan a residence in that country which his literary labours had seemedto mark out as his own? The king of Prussia wanted an ambassador atRome, to negotiate with the pope certain matters touching theinterests of his Catholic subjects, and Niebuhr's appointment was themost natural one possible. 

His first impressions of Rome were not favourable, and his firstletter was even querulous; but soon his clear single mind grew strongagain; and the spirit of his correspondence during the whole sevenyears of his Roman residence is delightful. Children brought out thefatherly part of his character; his wife was ever his loving anddevoted companion; some powerful and interesting minds sought hiscompanionship; and a taste for art was improved by intercourse withthe rising young artists who were then at Rome--Cornelius, Overbeck, Schadow; but, above all, the education of Marcus, his eldest child andonly boy, who can wonder if he became more and more of a Roman, and ifhe closed the seventh year of his residence mournfully when preparingfor his return to Germany?

His mission had been a difficult one--not that the papal court wasunfriendly, but the home instructions were not always clear andconsistent. An earnest Protestant himself, he was yet profoundly aliveto the duties of rulers towards all their subjects, of all religiousbeliefs, and wished in every negotiation to make sure of a largemeasure of real freedom. 

When at length the concordatives were agreed to, he was anxious for arecall, on account, chiefly, of the delicate state of Mme Niebuhr'shealth; but for this he had some little time to wait. It isinteresting to see the manner in which he was affected by the passingevents of this time. 

'Idle talk, ' says M. Bunsen, 'on matters of lofty import, and adwelling with pleasure upon trifling topics, were equally abhorrent tohim. I shall never forget how Niebuhr spoke at a princely table inRome, during the bloody scenes in Greece, of Suli and the Suliots, andthe future of the Christian Hellenes, in much the same terms as he hasspoken to posterity in a passage of his Roman history, which breathesa noble indignation, and a sense that the brand of infamy stillcleaves to us. The prince, a high-minded, amiable, and intelligentman, listened, as did his guests, with attention and sympathy; aserious mood seemed to come over the whole party; a pause occurred. One of the guests, a diplomatist, of Mephistophelian aspect andspecies, took advantage of it to turn the conversation. One of theeternally repeated trifles of the day--a so-called piece of news thatmust be repeated to the prince--was skilfully used as astepping-stone; and in ten minutes, the whole table was alive with adispute between the spokesman and another person who had contradictedhim on a most important point--what "aurora" signified in the slang ofthe Roman coffeehouses, whether a mixture of chocolate with coffee ornot. Niebuhr was silent. At last, with quiet earnestness anddignified mien, he spoke these words: "What heavy chastisements mustbe still in store for us, when, in such times, and with such eventsstill occurring around us, we can be entertained with such miserabletrifles!" All were mute, and Niebuhr also. A long pause ensued; andthe mysteries of the Caffé Nuovo were not mentioned again that day. '

The life which Niebuhr led after returning to Germany, was notremarkable as to incident, but it abounded in useful and noblepursuit. He still shunned Berlin; and, on the whole, the university ofBonn appeared to him as the best and most suitable residence for thefamily, now consisting of five children. He did not take any actualprofessorship, but he lectured and he wrote. Here he became the centreof a circle of the highest minds of Germany. All prized him; all, young and old, felt the benefit of his presence, his labours, andexample. He regularly worked at the history of Rome; but he cultivatedhis garden, taught and played with his children, and built himself ahouse. The time was not all passed at Bonn; in 1829, the familyvisited Holstein and Mme Hensler. A twelve years' absence had producedmany alterations, but the love of country and early home was wroughtinto Niebuhr's heart, and he enjoyed this renewal of youth. A sadcalamity, however, awaited him at Bonn. On the night of February the6th 1830, the new house he had built with such pleasure and care, wasburnt completely down. Very little could be saved--excepting, indeed, that the books, being the first object to which his neighbours wereattracted when the family were rescued, were for the most partpreserved, and also the manuscript of the second volume of his Romanhistory. The whole correspondence with his father, and many otherletters and papers, were destroyed. 

This event, though a great shock, he bore with much calmness, and sethimself to restore what was lost. Foreign politics did not lose theirinterest; on the contrary, the French Revolution of 1830 excited allhis ardour. At first, he was alarmed, anticipating fresh horrors; butthe welcome he gave to Louis-Philippe was most enthusiastic. Dr Arnolddescribes him as being made quite happy by this turn of the page ofpresent life, and deeply indignant with the Bourbon ministers. Hisardour in this cause was indeed the immediate occasion of his fatalillness; for while the French trials were pending, he would go everyevening, through severe cold, in the depth of winter, to thenews-rooms, and by this exposure caught the inflammatory cold of whichhe died. On the evening of Christmas-day 1830, this formidable attackbegan; and on the 1st of January 1831, the excellent man breathed hislast, fully conscious of his impending fate, and not less so of thatof his beloved partner, who had nursed him during the first two days, but was afterwards too ill to leave her bed. When her husband wasinformed of this, he turned his face to the wall, and was heard tomurmur: 'Hapless house! to lose father and mother at once!' Then, 'Pray to God, children; He alone can help us'--and his attendants sawthat he himself was seeking comfort in prayer. Poor Mme Niebuhrsurvived him but nine days. She had her children with her, and triedto give them counsel; but the shock had been too great for her brokenhealth; she rests in the same grave with him, not far from theglorious river. The king of Prussia erected a monument to his honour. 

Niebuhr was only a few months more than fifty-four. Mrs Austin, whosaw him in 1828, says: 'His person was diminutive, almost to meanness, but his presence very imposing. His head and eye were grand, austere, and commanding. He had all the authority of intelligence, and lookedand spoke like one not used to contradiction. He lived a life of studyand domestic seclusion, but he conversed freely and unreservedly. ' Hishabits, we are told by another writer, were temperate and regular. 'Heentered with earnest sympathy into all the little interests andconventional jokes of his family and friends; and he writes with quiteas much eagerness about Marcus's learning great E; or Cornelia'sflowered frock for her birthday, as about consuls or cabinets. 'Niebuhr himself says: 'I shall teach little Amelia to write myself, for her mother has no time for it; and the poor little thing might bejealous of Marcus, if one of us did not teach her. ' His considerationfor his dependents may be illustrated by this remark: 'I wish I hadtaken the governess's room when we got into the house first; but, anti-revolutionist as I am, I am too much of a democrat to turn herout now in right of superior rank. '

Of his character, some faint idea may be formed from our sketch andextracts; but of the beauty of his thoughts, his soundness, sagacity, the perfect simplicity of his whole style of character, a largeacquaintance with his free outpourings to his friends can alone givean adequate notion. We regard them as among the very best privateletters we know--of their kind, we mean--for they are not witty, notplayful. The reader will not find lightness and grace, but strengthand manliness, and, in a remarkable degree, affectionateness. They arethe charming utterances of a clear and honest mind, and have made usthankful for the privilege of knowing the inner life of one whoseoutward works have long had our admiration. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] By the Chevalier Bunsen and Professors Brandis and Loebell. 2vols. 8vo. London: Chapman & Hall. 1852. 

THE TATTLETON ELECTION. 

There never was a contested election in the borough of Great Tattletonthat I remember but one, and it took place on what was termed the lastappeal to the country in the matter of the Reform Bill. Staid andsubstantial fathers of families doubtless recollect the strife ofparties and opinions which filled those times, and in which themselvestook part, with all the bootless haste and fervour of twenty; feelingespecially indignant that they were not yet householders, as theirincorruptible votes might save the nation. England has floated safelythrough many a conflict of the old and new since then, and more of thekind are coming; but no event in our national history ever appeared tothe denizens of Tattleton of half such magnitude as that contestedelection. Tattleton was an ancient and respectable borough. It has arailway station now, but looks much as it did at the time of mystory--a small, old-fashioned country town, situated among corn andorchard lands in one of the cider-making counties, with a newspaper, asheriff's court, and sundry quiet shops and alehouses. There is an oldchurch there, with high Gothic windows full of painted glass, quaintcarving, strange tombs, and a suit of knightly armour hanging betweentwo tattered banners, which the sexton says were carried some time inthe wars. Tradition says also, that there is a fine old painting infresco, whitewashed over from the Reformation, but of that I knownothing. The town had other antiquities. Its stocks were a marvel ofage and efficiency. A ducking-stool for scolds yet remained in thecourthouse, beside the beam with which they weighed witches againstthe Bible; but the oldest thing in Great Tattleton was its charter: anative antiquary demonstrated, that it had been signed by King Johnthe day after Runnymede; and among other superannuated privileges, itconferred on the free burghers the right of trade and toll, ward andgibbet, besides that of electing their own mayor and one loyalcommoner, to serve in the king's parliament. 

We all believed that Palladium of Tattleton to be kept somewhere inthe church, and generations had returned their representativesaccording to its provisions. But the bounds of the borough were sodevious, and the free burghers so thinly scattered among us, that allelections within the memory of man had been quietly managed by themayor, the town-clerk, and the sheriff. Moreover, an old gateway andtwo crazy posts had something to do in the business by right ofancient custom. In short, Tattleton was what the advocates of thewhole Bill were apt to term a close and sometimes a rotten borough. Its representation had become hereditary--some said, since the LongParliament--in the Stopford family, who owned at least half the soil, and were supposed to be as old as its charter. One of their ancestorshad built the church, another wore the armour and captured the bannersthat hung in it. The family pew and vault were there; and they hadbeen squires and justices of peace from father to son, dispensinghospitality, work, and law, at their seat of Fern Hall--a great oldmanor-house, standing deep in a thickly-wooded dell not half a milefrom Tattleton. So far as I could learn, the Stopfords had given noornaments to state or church, but theirs was pre-eminently a safehouse. Its martlets were generally fortunate in their connections; andits chiefs had supported the character of moderate reformers, each inhis generation. At home, they were lenient magistrates and prudentlandlords, never overtaxing their tenantry, and rarely enforcing thegame-laws. None of them ever took a first step; but all improvementsin the neighbourhood, if once commenced, were certain of theircountenance; and in parliament they always voted for any measure ofreform which it was evident the people would want no longer. 

It was, therefore, in accordance with family principles and practice, that the then reigning squire and M. P. , Levison Stopford, Esquire, should take his seat on the ministerial benches, and vote in and outof parliament for the Bill with which all England rang. LevisonStopford did not make brilliant speeches, but he had a fair share ofprominence in county business, was a middling landlord, a respectablehead of a family, connected by marriage with a Whig peer, the fatherof a promising son, and, as the newspapers said, four lovelydaughters. All these recommendations to public favour could not securehim against division in his native borough. There were Conservativesamong us, who clung to the time-honoured institutions of Tattleton, and could not consent to see their ancient privileges, charter, oldposts, and all, submerged in those of two adjoining boroughs--LittleTattleton, whose constituency consisted of the beadle, and Lumberdale, to which the earl always nominated his second son; for people alreadyunderstood, that on the passing of the Bill these three should becomeone, at least in elections. 

Sir Jonas Underwood, of Little Tattleton Park, did not like thatprospect--he had been regularly returned by the loyal and independentbeadle ever since his majority, a period of some forty years--neitherdid the Earl of Lumberdale, as the present state of things made hissecond son's canvass by no means difficult. Both the earl and thebaronet possessed some property, and more influence, in our borough, by help of which they warned the loyal Conservatives that theircountry was in danger, and exhorted Great Tattleton to rush to therescue. The mayor said, that though he respected birth and breeding, yet, if a country gentleman like Mr Stopford would so far disgrace hisfamily as to vote for a measure which must break down the Britishconstitution, and utterly ruin England in less than twenty years, he, for his own part, felt called upon to oppose him. The town-clerkalways said as the mayor did: all the Tories in Tattleton took themfor examples, by degrees a party was formed against Stopford on whathad hitherto been his own ground; and long before the dissolution, itwas known that they intended, as the phrase is, 'to start' SommersetCloudesly, Esquire, as an opposing candidate in the Conservativeinterest. 

Sommerset Cloudesly occupied a large but neat brick house on the vergeof our town's liberties, with a meadow-like lawn in front, and acresof orchard in the rear. His father had been a small farmer, whobettered his fortune by all manner of money-making speculations--thelast of which, a cider-manufactory, and a mill, together with a househe had built, the orchard he had planted, and a handsome strip oflanded property, descending to his only son, made him the second manin Tattleton. Sommerset had been what is called carefully educated:ten years of his life had been spent in the house of a clergyman, whoreceived select boarders as part of his own family; five more at acollege in Oxford under the direction of a staid tutor; and theresidue in a series of fidgets through the house and land left him byhis father; for at the time of our story, the worthy cider-maker hadlong gone to his account. 

Sommerset was a tall, thin, genteel-looking man, in his thirtiethyear. Motherless, sisterless, and wifeless--strange to say, under suchcircumstances, he was restless too. It was not a weight of crime thatpressed upon his conscience. Cloudesly's life had been as harmless asthose of his own apple-trees. It was not inordinate ambition thatdisturbed his days, for though, like most of us, Sommerset would haverather preferred being a great man, could greatness be easily come at, he lost no labour in its pursuit. Neither was it love that besiegedhis peace; for, except Miss Lily Prior, old Tom the brewer's daughter, who sat in the same pew at church, Sommerset had never been known tolook on one of womankind with attention. Perhaps the carefulness ofhis education might have done it. Life could not be entirely folded uplike a napkin, and put into its proper drawer; and everything annoyedSommerset Cloudesly. The coming off of his waistcoat button was thedestruction of Messina. The world was going to ruin if his horse losta shoe. Like the idle family in the Eastern tale, he could draw adisturbance from the future also, and many a heart-quake had heregarding what might happen. His Oxford tutor had made him a strongTory; old Cloudesly had averred, that was the only politics for agentleman; and though Sommerset believed in all the alarms of histime, his faith being particularly strong for terrors, he had alwayssupposed himself to be somebody. Sir Jonas and the Earl of Lumberdaleassured him he was the hope of Tattleton; and, in an evil hour, heconsented, in electioneering phrase, to contest the borough. 

With his relations, who regarded Sommerset as their top branch, thestep was in high favour; and all his friends came out strong inapprobation, excepting old Tom Prior. He had been the consultingfriend and boon-companion of old Cloudesly forty years before, whenthe one began to brew beer and the other to make cider. Tom's breweryhad not paid him so well as old Cloudesly's apples. He had been thefirst to establish a business of the kind in Tattleton. There werethree there at the time of the election; but the townspeople stillknew him familiarly as _the_ brewer, though he had long become asleeping partner, having saved enough for himself and his old wife tolive on in a cottage covered with grape vines, at the end of a longgreen lane in which the main street of Tattleton dwindled away. Therewas, besides, a thousand pounds for Lily, the heiress-apparent, moreover, of his interest in the brewery. Tom said 'he had no notionof politics, being entirely given to beer; and who was right aboutthat there Bill he couldn't say, but he never knowed an honest man asmade money by a contested election. ' Old Mrs Prior always echoed whather husband said, besides knitting a perpetual stocking that was heronly occupation; but Tom and his wife were old people now, and insmall intimacy with the college-bred young Cloudesly, though they satin the same church-pew, and some thought their daughter Lily was alsoa friend to our proposed member. Lily was as pretty a girl as could befound in all Tattleton, which, together with her prospects, ratherinsured admirers; but Lily took no trouble with any of them, and itwas believed that the old folks rather wished she should not be in ahurry. 

That was no wonder; for, in this fidgety world, Lily Prior was atreasure. Nothing ever disturbed her. Her hair might go out of curl, or her friends out of humour; her bonnet might take unbecoming fits, as I am told bonnets sometimes do, but her equanimity remainedunruffled, and her days were spent in knitting beside her mother inthe little oak parlour, taking quiet walks, and hoeing peacefully inher own flower-garden. Spiteful people said, that Lily was beginningto look old-maidish, but I never saw it in her calm face. It was alsosaid--what didn't they say in Great Tattleton?--that her muslin dressand crimped collar were more carefully arranged when SommersetCloudesly might be expected to walk that way; but Lily's strongestdemonstration was 'Dear me!' and that she said on hearing of hisintended contest. A perilous contest it seemed for SommersetCloudesly. Stopford was by far the richer and more influential man;the interest of his party, his aristocratic connections, and hisindividual pride, all determined him to keep his ground; and thegenerally prudent man had been heard to declare, that he would spendto the last sixpence of his property, rather than see himself unseatedby an upstart simpleton. 

Sommerset and his friends had, of course, the accredited weapons oftheir party wherewith to attack the adversary, and Stopford was calledeverything, from Radical up to Atheist. Thus the battle began, andfiercely was it fought; but suffice it to say, that all the usualmeans for obtaining the independent suffrage of freeborn Englishmenwere put in requisition. Voters suddenly emerged from corners whereinno freeholds had been previously dreamed of; others were unaccountablyabsent on the polling-days; the alehouses abounded in trade, and thetown in all disorderliness. There was everlasting controversy overclaims of residence and ownership, with numerous appeals to our famouscharter; and prosecutions for assault and battery occupied our townlawyers the whole succeeding year. 

What spites and quarrels are still flourishing among my old neighbourswhich owe their origin to that election! How many long friendships itsplit up, and how much family peace it disturbed, I cannot preciselystate; but the like did happen. Neither is it within my memory's scopeto enlarge on the Countess Dowager of Lumberdale and her sevencharming daughters, in elegant morning-dresses, appearing at the poll, where they shook hands with everybody, and shewed a singularacquaintance with family history; nor to relate how Lord Littlemore, Stopford's brother-in-law, and the proudest peer in England, madecalls on small shopkeepers and farmers, perhaps to shew what rankcould do on important occasions. No manoeuvre was left untried by therival factions, nor any cause of dispute omitted, and the strifeincreased in bitterness every day. Readers, can any of you explain whypeople so generally run into the way of whatever they most fear? Inever could; but the case is common, and Sommerset Cloudesly was astriking instance. What waves of worry passed over him! and what heapsof annoyance were piled on his spirit during that county election!--arather tedious business in those unreformed days. His peace was killedwith cabbage-stocks on the hustings; his days were devastated bygroans; and his soul harrowed by hisses. Nevertheless, both hisfriends and enemies were amazed to see how well Cloudesly acquittedhimself; his speeches, when they could be heard, were models of neateloquence; and his colours--pea-green and white--were sported withgenteel triumph. By and by, however, it became evident to his mostsanguine supporter that Sommerset had no chance; Sir Jonas and LordLumberdale themselves advised him to give up the contest; but the manhad been persuaded that the safety of Great Tattleton, if not that ofthe British nation, depended on him, and a persuasion once inSommerset's head was not easily got out. He believed on, in spite ofthem and fortune. I never found out precisely what the business costhim; nobody dared inquire, and he burned all the accounts; but atlength the last day's poll was taken, and amid cheers, yells, and anewly-begun row, Levison Stopford, Esq. , was declared duly elected. 

Men cannot have Waterloos of their own every day. No wonder, then, that the honourable member's glory was too great for his prudence:scarcely had the poll closed, when it became generally known in frontof the Stopford Arms, that there were two barrels of strong beer, which his liberality had devoted to the populace. On the publicationof this intelligence, the ancient ceremony of chairing went on withmore than usual vigour. It was a quiet autumn evening, but there wasno peace for Tattleton. The shops and houses of Stopford's friendswere lighting up in every quarter for a grand illumination, while theopposition and the stingy were closing as quickly as possible. Halfthe rabble of the county were gathered in the streets; all our ownrespectability occupied doors and windows; and forth from thetown-hall, in a substantial armchair, decorated with bunches ofribbons, blue and red--the Stopford colours--borne in high triumph byhis most zealous and noisy adherents, came the newly-chosen senator (arather stout gentleman, and father of a hopeful family), scatteringcoppers and silver with no sparing hand, from a large canvas bag, among the crowd, who roared and scrambled in all the might of beer. Old politicians said it was a great victory for Whig principles, andmany a joke was cracked at the unsuccessful candidate's expense. Somebelieved he had retired behind bolt and bar; others that he wasdefying fortune at a late dinner. If the latter statement were true, Sommerset's company must have been small. The Earl and Sir Jonas hadlong since washed their hands of him, as incorrigibly obstinate. Themore influential of his supporters kept out of sight, being ratherashamed of the losing side; and, I grieve to say, the barrels hadutterly shaken the faith of many a voteless adherent, the freeholdersof our streets and lanes, who now shouted Stopford instead ofCloudesly for ever. Some there were, nevertheless, with souls abovebarrels--men who had votes, and men who had none--and they collectedtheir forces at the foot of the main street, as vantage-ground fromwhich to groan at the above-mentioned procession, and inform MrStopford of their intentions to unseat him for bribery and corruption. 

Great Tattleton was not a fighting place--a serious riot had neveroccurred within the memory of its 'oldest inhabitant;' yet on thatevening quiet people began to feel uneasy; and my particular friend, Miss Croply, had selected it as a fitting occasion for her tea-party. Miss Croply was a maiden lady of some fifty years, and great noteamong us. She drew dividends at the bank; kept her own establishment, consisting of a maid and a boy; and gave select parties. Moreover, Miss Croply was a Tory after her own fashion. She said there wasnothing she hated but Radicals and reformers, for all they wanted wasto bring down the respectable people, and maybe break the banks. Onthese principles, she had been in great fervour for SommersetCloudesly; and by way of testifying that his defeat had not broken herspirit, Miss Croply assembled the Priors, myself, and two or threeother favoured friends, to tea and crumpets prepared by her own fairhands. These requisites were on the table, and the party assembled inthe little drawing-room, all but Lily, whom her mother had left tomanage some domestic matter (the old lady was particular at times);but at its conclusion, Lily was to come through the lane, over thefields, and up Miss Croply's garden, to avoid the crowd, and shew thebeautiful new bonnet she had received that morning as a present fromher aunt. We all knew Lily to be exact; but the hour had come, and notthe woman. 

'Don't draw that curtain, if you please, Mr Prior; I would not gratifythe low creatures by looking out!' said Miss Croply, as shouts louderthan ordinary rose from the street, and old Tom stepped to the window. The noise came nearer. It sounded like, 'Miss Prior for ever!' Werushed in a body to the windows. Miss Croply herself drew the curtain. There was a woman borne in a garden-chair, dangerously high, by themost zealous of the Cloudeslyites, while the rest followed inapplauding procession, augmented every moment, and Tom's hands wenttogether like the 'crack of doom' as he exclaimed: 'By jingo, it's myown daughter!'

Lily it was, in her pretty green gown, white shawl, and gay newbonnet--it was trimmed with pale-green and white: as for her face, itexpressed nothing but 'Dear me!' I never saw such philosophy. Outrushed Tom, so did all the men of us, and followed the crowd up thestreet, and down the lane to the front of Cloudesly's house, where wearrived just in time to see the gallant Sommerset hand Lily from herchair with the air of a man about to kneel. Poor Cloudesly! he wasboth weak and strong, but a good fellow at heart. 

'She wore my colours, and suffered for my sake, ' was all he said, aswith Lily on his arm he marched back with us to Miss Croply'sdrawing-room, followed by the crowd, shouting: 'Prior and Cloudeslyfor ever!'

'Lily, dear, what's the meaning of this?' said old Mrs Prior. 

'I thought I would take a look, ' said Lily calmly; 'and they all gotabout me, saying I had on Mr Cloudesly's colours, and'----

'So you did wear his colours, ' cried Miss Croply; 'and I'm proud ofyou for keeping up your principles! Mrs Prior, I always knew there wassomething great in that girl!'

'It's just the bonnet my aunt sent me, ' said Lily; 'and I didn'tmean'----

'Never mind what you meant, ' cried Miss Croply, in whose mind policyas well as romance might have been at work at that moment: 'we don'twant no excuses. '

In short, Lily was made a heroine that evening. Her father and motherthought themselves called upon to rebuke, but it was done rather inthe encouraging style, especially when Mr Cloudesly gave the companyto understand that henceforth he was to be considered Lily's humbleservant. Isn't that the proper phrase, readers? And Miss Prior, whohad not her composure to regain, coloured slightly, and finished thematter by saying: 'Dear me!'

I have heard from herself, that she had put on her aunt's bonnet, andcome quietly through the lane, when it struck her that she would liketo see what was going on, as Miss Croply would allow no looking out atthe low creatures; so nearer and nearer to the street did Lily wend, till a boy--are not boys at the bottom of all mischief?--raised theshout that she was wearing Mr Cloudesly's colours; the phalanx thensurrounded her, and improvised the triumph which we witnessed. The_Tattleton Chronicle_ was remarkably full upon it. I think, till thisday, Lily is regarded as a devoted heroine by all the Tories ofTattleton, for there are Tories there still. But we had a splendidwedding at our church, under Mr Stopford's very nose, before he wentto parliament. I can vouch for old Tom and Miss Croply leading off acountry-dance the same evening in Prior Cottage; but it istwo-and-twenty years ago. There is a tombstone over the old man andhis wife. Miss Croply has left her bank deposit to three nieces. Sommerset Cloudesly grew less fidgety long ago, and some people sayless genteel, but he brews the best beer, and makes the best cider nowin the county. There are ten children in the brick-house, but MrsCloudesly looks as composed as ever; and when her husband reads to herat work on the winter nights, as he dutifully does, in the newspapers, she sometimes remarks, at the close of long parliamentary debates, towhich Sommerset was always partial: 'What trouble those people have inthat House of Commons, my love! Wasn't it really good for you that youlost the Tattleton election?'

SAILORS' HOMES. 

Our readers may probably have from time to time read allusions to'Sailors' Homes, ' without precisely understanding the nature of theseinstitutions. They are based on the fact that sailors, as a class, arelittle better than children when ashore, and require to be providentlycared for, to save them from imposition and misery. The seaman whenafloat is so thoroughly accustomed to obey orders, and to be directedand instructed in everything, that he never thinks for himself, andnever acquires the least forethought or capability of guiding himselfin any position apart from the active duties of his profession;consequently, from time out of mind, he has been especially doomed tobe victimised on the land. No sooner has he been paid off after avoyage, than he is--at least at all the great ports--beset with'crimps, ' 'runners, ' and other land-sharks, who entice him to lowpublic-houses and lodging-houses, where he is plundered with suchextraordinary dispatch, that he frequently loses the results of manymonths of toil in a few days, or even a few hours. 

Of all men, seamen have pre-eminently a claim on public sympathy andprotection; no class needs the latter more, and, strange to say, noclass has, until a comparatively recent period, received it less. Inthe words of Thomas Clarkson: 'The grievances of mercantile seamen area national and crying evil;' and when we reflect on their importance, both as regards commerce and war, it will be acknowledged that it is anational duty to do all that is possible to protect them while ashore, and to ameliorate and improve their lot in every practical way. Butthis, like many other national duties, has been left to the voluntaryexertions of a few practical philanthropists. In the words of MrSheriff Alison (now Sir A. Alison), when addressing a meeting atGlasgow, with the view of founding a 'Home' there: 'The seamen areplaced in very peculiar circumstances--their virtues are exhibited atsea, and their vices are exhibited on shore. The community isbenefited by the former, and they, the sailors, are the victims of thelatter. It is therefore more incumbent on those who are enriched bytheir industry, and protected by their valour, to prevent theirfalling into those vices to which unhappily so many of them areaddicted. As had been so well stated, they could do nothing to improvethe character of the seaman without at the same time benefiting allclasses of the community. '

There is weighty truth in the last sentence. Undoubtedly, any and allimprovements, whether of the physical or moral condition of one classof the community, reacts on all. But especially in the case of seamen, the result would be beneficial to the nation in an incalculabledegree. Raise the moral character of the sailor, by inducing in himreformed and provident habits, and he will soon feel that he has a_stake_ in the prosperity and security of his country; and he willindeed repay all that has been done for him by his steady industry inpeace, and by his gallantry in war; for we think it is a great errorto suppose, as some do, that a mere reckless outcast will fight morebravely than a man who feels that he is a responsible and respectedcitizen of a great nation, with his own proportionate interestsinvolved in the results of the conflict. 

It is to protect the seaman from extortion and temptation whileashore, and to elevate him in the social scale, that the excellentinstitutions called Sailors' Homes have been projected. Their objectis to insure a respectable and truly comfortable 'home' to seamen, atan exceedingly moderate rate of payment; together with otheradvantages to be hereafter alluded to. An able pamphlet on thesubject, by Mr Montague Gore, has recently been published, and we areindebted to him for the statistical information we are about to laybefore the reader. 

It appears that Captain Elliott, R. N. , was the first who conceived theidea of founding Sailors' Homes. This was in 1828. In 1833, one wasestablished at Charleston, in South Carolina; but the first in Englandwas under the auspices of Mr Green, the great shipbuilder andship-owner of Blackwall, near London, and he originally designed itonly for his own numerous seamen, although by a recent regulationothers are admitted. Captain Hall, R. N. , deserves worthy mention asone of the first promoters of Sailors' Homes, and he has for yearsindefatigably devoted himself to their formation. He recently visitedthe chief ports in the kingdom, to observe personally the condition ofseamen ashore, and to advocate the establishment of Homes. 

The first public Sailors' Home was that of Wells Street, London. Itwas opened in May 1835; and Mr Gore informs us, that from that time upto December 31, 1851, no less than '54, 026 seamen were received intothe institution, of which number 15, 055 were old or returned boarders. Last year the inmates amounted to 4633, and L. 25, 160 passed throughthe secretary's hand of money left in his charge, L. 2500 of which wasdeposited in the savings-bank. The building in Wells Street is capableof holding 320 men, each of whom has a separate berth. The terms ofadmission are 14s. Per week for full-grown men; 12s. Per week forlads; and 10s. 6d. Per week for apprentices. For this sum they areentitled to lodging [washing also], and four excellent meals daily;the dietary is admirable. . . . The terms and regulations of Mr Green'sestablishment are nearly the same as those in Wells Street. It iscapable of holding 200 men; and here, too, are to be found equallygratifying proofs of provident habits, instances having occurred ofmen having as much as L. 100 in the Poplar Bank. '

Good libraries are provided at these Sailors' Homes, and themorning-prayers of the Church of England are duly read; but theattendance of the inmates is perfectly voluntary, and no distinctionof religious creed bars their admission. This is as it should be, andwe have heard the Wells Street Home spoken of in terms of praise andgratitude by seamen who have been boarders there. Seamen of the bestcharacter thankfully flock to the Homes, and, consequently, captainsprefer to ship their crews from them. Mr Gore says, that in one year112 ships were manned from the Home in Wells Street. 

The Portsmouth Home was opened in April 1851, and has been greatlysupported and enlarged by the munificent contributions of thesovereign and some of the nobility. It receives British sailors at13s. Per week for men, and 10s. For boys and apprentices. Concerningit, Sir Edward Parry, governor of Haslar Naval Hospital, says: 'Thepractice formerly prevalent with the crimps, and other sharks, ofbesetting the gates of the Hospital, to waylay and beguile theinvalids on their discharge, is now almost at an end. This is, Ibelieve, principally to be attributed to our Portsmouth Sailors' Home, from which establishment a boat is generally sent every discharge-day, to give the invalids the opportunity of going there withoutdifficulty--the regulations of the Home being posted up in variousparts of the hospital. I am sure it is a comfort and a blessing to allwho go there. '

A Home was opened in Dublin in July 1848; and at Bristol, Plymouth, Cork, Dundee, &c. , Homes are in course of formation. A magnificentSailors' Home has long been in course of establishment at Liverpool;but it is not yet opened, although nearly finished. Influentialmeetings have also been held at Aberdeen, Glasgow, Greenock, &c. , toestablish Homes at these several ports. No one can conceive howabsolutely necessary such institutions are but those who, likeourselves, have seen the way in which seamen are robbed and led astrayashore. Mr Gore gives the public a little insight into the case. 'Ivisited, ' says he, ' a short time ago, some of the houses at Wappingand its neighbourhood, into which the sailors are decoyed. Thesehouses are kept by crimps, who waylay the unsuspecting sailors; theyare by them conducted to these places, where they find music anddancing going forward; they are induced to take up their abode there, and are often plundered of every farthing they possess. In somehouses, I saw several foreigners; and in the days when burking wascommon, many of these unfortunates were made away with. In Bristol, when a ship arrives, the sailors are surrounded by a set ofmiscreants, who are called "runners, " and are taken by them to housesof the lowest description. . . . Instances innumerable might be stated ofthe horrible state of the dens to which seamen are obliged to resortfor want of more respectable residences; robberies are of frequentoccurrence; and in one, I fear not a solitary case, murder wascommitted. '

Our object in giving those extracts is, to shew the vital necessityfor the formation of Homes at all our leading ports. At Liverpool, forinstance, the crimps are so active and speculative in driving theirabominable traffic, that no sooner do they hear of a man-of-war beingpaid off at Portsmouth, or any other naval port, than they send theiragents to entice the sailors down to Liverpool. Let us quote onesolitary example of the way in which Poor Jack is plundered. 'When HerMajesty's ship _Raleigh_ was paid off at Portsmouth, many of the menwere so plundered, that they were obliged to apply to the magistratesfor redress. It appears from the notes of the evidence taken beforethem, that seven of these men were charged L. 102 for three days'entertainment at a low public-house, one item being L. 6, 2s. For twohours' ride in an omnibus; and a messmate, who came to breakfast withthem, was compelled to pay 17s. 4d. For two eggs, some salt beef, anda cup of coffee. It is gratifying to state, at the same time, thatnineteen men of this ship were received into the Sailors' Home, Wells Street, London, taking with them L. 222, besides theirremittance-bills. '

We will make one more extract from Mr Gore's interesting brochure:'Every seaport has a direct interest in the improvement of thecharacter of the seamen who frequent it, and whose example mustexercise considerable influence on the rest of the community. To theship-owners, as well as to their men, the Homes cannot fail of provingin the highest degree advantageous. Their ships are now often mannedby men upon whom, when at foreign ports, little or no dependence canbe placed. They care little about the ship in which they sail; theyare heedless as to what port they shall return; but the establishmentof Homes will induce those who have experienced their advantages, tobe desirous of returning to them. It will render the seamen better menand better citizens, and it will cause them to continue with theirmasters. ' We cordially endorse these opinions. 

One great obstacle to the speedy formation of Sailors' Homes, seems tobe the outlay necessary in the shape of buildings, &c. On this pointwe offer, with deference, a suggestion of our own. It is, that hullsof large old ships be bought and fitted up as _floating-homes_. Suchestablishments would accommodate a large number of seamen in a verycomfortable manner, and could be kept up at an exceedingly moderateannual outlay for repairs. Surely the proprietors of the docks in ourlarge ports could, and would afford a convenient mooring-place at amerely nominal rent. 

In conclusion, we may mention, that an establishment of a kindrednature to Sailors' Homes is the 'Asylum for Distressed Seamen' inLondon. It is supported by voluntary contributions, and receivesdestitute seamen of all nations. It lodges 100 inmates, and providesthem with two good meals daily. It were to be wished that similarasylums were established at every port in the empire. 

The philanthropist, Thomas Clarkson, shortly before his death, proposed that all public-houses for seamen's lodgings should belicensed under strict special regulations. This, we think, would be astep in the right direction; but there is nothing like a regularSailors' Home. Nevertheless, even in the large ports, licensedlodging-houses would be exceedingly useful as auxiliaries to theHomes. 

UNCLE TOM'S CABIN. 

STORY OF ELIZA. 

_Uncle Tom's Cabin_ is the title of an American work, respecting whichit is alleged that fifty thousand copies, weighing fifty-five tons, were disposed of in the short period of eight weeks. So high a degreeof popularity could not rest on an insufficient foundation. [2] Thebook is a species of novel or story, designed to portray in vividcolours negro-life in the slave states of America; and such is thegraphic and truth-like way in which the authoress, Harriet BeecherStowe, has strung the whole together, that the production has not onlyenlisted the sympathy of the Abolitionists, but roused something likea sense of shame in the holders of slaves--hitherto impervious to allremonstrance on the subject. A cheap London reprint of this somewhatinteresting book enables us to give a slight sketch of its character. 

Uncle Tom is a middle-aged negro slave, on the farm of a Mr Shelby, inKentucky; he has learned to read, is pious and exemplary, and his hutis resorted to for edification by old and young in the neighbourhood. Tom is married, has several children, and is highly trustworthy. Between his family and that of his owner there is an agreeableintercourse, and to all appearance he is likely to live and die on theestate; but his master falls into pecuniary difficulties; becomesindebted to a wretch, Haley, a dealer in slaves from the south; and heis obliged to part with so much live property to wipe out hisobligations. It is arranged that Tom must go, and along with him ayoung female slave, Eliza, almost white, who is married, and hashitherto acted as lady's-maid to Mrs Shelby. Eliza's pretty boy, Harry, makes up the lot. The first point of interest in the narrativeturns on Eliza and her child; and we cannot do better than allow theauthoress to enter on the history of this unfortunate female slave andher husband. It is said to be drawn from the life. 

'Eliza had been brought up by her mistress from girlhood as a pettedand indulged favourite. The traveller in the south must often haveremarked that peculiar air of refinement, that softness of voice andmanner, which seems in many cases to be a particular gift to thequadroon and mulatto women. These natural graces in the quadroon areoften united with beauty of the most dazzling kind, and in almostevery case with a personal appearance prepossessing and agreeable. Eliza, such as we have described her, is not a fancy sketch, but takenfrom remembrance, as we saw her years ago in Kentucky. Safe under theprotecting care of her mistress, Eliza had reached maturity withoutthose temptations which make beauty so fatal an inheritance to aslave. She had been married to a bright and talented young mulattoman, who was a slave on a neighbouring estate, and bore the name ofGeorge Harris. 

'This young man had been hired out by his master to work in a baggingfactory, where his adroitness and ingenuity caused him to beconsidered the first hand in the place. He had invented a machine forthe cleaning of the hemp, which, considering the education andcircumstances of the inventor, displayed quite as much mechanicalgenius as Whitney's cotton-gin. He was possessed of a handsome personand pleasing manners, and was a general favourite in the factory. Nevertheless, as this young man was in the eye of the law not a man, but a thing, all these superior qualifications were subject to thecontrol of a vulgar, narrow-minded, tyrannical master. This samegentleman, having heard of the fame of George's invention, took a rideover to the factory, to see what this intelligent chattel had beenabout. He was received with great enthusiasm by the employer, whocongratulated him on possessing so valuable a slave. He was waitedupon over the factory, shewn the machinery by George, who, in highspirits, talked so fluently, held himself so erect, looked so handsomeand manly, that his master began to feel an uneasy consciousness ofinferiority. What business had his slave to be marching round thecountry, inventing machines, and holding up his head among gentlemen?He'd soon put a stop to it. He'd take him back, and put him to hoeingand digging, and "see if he'd step about so smart. " Accordingly, themanufacturer and all hands concerned were astounded when he suddenlydemanded George's wages, and announced his intention of taking himhome. 

"But, Mr Harris, " remonstrated the manufacturer, "isn't this rathersudden?"

"What if it is? Isn't the man _mine_?"

"We would be willing, sir, to increase the rate of compensation. "

"No object at all, sir. I don't need to hire any of my hands out, unless I've a mind to. "

"But, sir, he seems peculiarly adapted to this business. "

"Daresay he may be; never was much adapted to anything that I set himabout, I'll be bound. "

"But only think of his inventing this machine, " interposed one of theworkmen, rather unluckily. 

"O yes!--a machine for saving work, is it? He'd invent that, I'll bebound; let a nigger alone for that any time. They are alllabour-saving machines themselves, every one of 'em. No, he shalltramp!"

'George had stood like one transfixed at hearing his doom thussuddenly pronounced by a power that he knew was irresistible. Hefolded his arms, tightly pressed in his lips, but a whole volcano ofbitter feelings burned in his bosom, and sent streams of fire throughhis veins. He breathed short, and his large dark eyes flashed likelive coals; and he might have broken out into some dangerousebullition, had not the kindly manufacturer touched him on the arm, and said, in a low tone: "Give way, George: go with him for thepresent. We'll try to help you yet. "

'The tyrant observed the whisper, and conjectured its import, thoughhe could not hear what was said; and he inwardly strengthened himselfin his determination to keep the power he possessed over his victim. George was taken home, and put to the meanest drudgery of the farm. Hehad been able to repress every disrespectful word; but the flashingeye, the gloomy and troubled brow, were part of a natural languagethat could not be repressed--indubitable signs, which shewed tooplainly that the man could not become a thing. 

'It was during the happy period of his employment in the factory thatGeorge had seen and married his wife. During that period--being muchtrusted and favoured by his employer--he had free liberty to come andgo at discretion. The marriage was highly approved of by Mrs Shelby, who, with a little womanly complacency in match-making, felt pleasedto unite her handsome favourite with one of her own class, who seemedin every way suited to her; and so they were married in her mistress'sgreat parlour, and her mistress herself adorned the bride's beautifulhair with orange-blossoms, and threw over it the bridal veil, whichcertainly could scarce have rested on a fairer head; and there was nolack of white gloves, and cake and wine--of admiring guests to praisethe bride's beauty, and her mistress's indulgence and liberality. Fora year or two, Eliza saw her husband frequently, and there was nothingto interrupt their happiness, except the loss of two infant children, to whom she was passionately attached, and whom she mourned with agrief so intense as to call for gentle remonstrance from her mistress, who sought, with maternal anxiety, to direct her naturally passionatefeelings within the bounds of reason and religion. 

'After the birth of little Harry, however, she had gradually becometranquillised and settled; and every bleeding tie and throbbing nerve, once more entwined with that little life, seemed to become sound andhealthful; and Eliza was a happy woman up to the time that her husbandwas rudely torn from his kind employer, and brought under the ironsway of his legal owner. 

'The manufacturer, true to his word, visited Mr Harris a week or twoafter George had been taken away, when, as he hoped, the heat of theoccasion had passed away, and tried every possible inducement to leadhim to restore him to his former employment. 

"You needn't trouble yourself to talk any longer, " said he doggedly;"I know my own business, sir. "

"I did not presume to interfere with it, sir. I only thought that youmight think it for your interest to let your man to us on the termsproposed. "

"Oh, I understand the matter well enough. I saw your winking andwhispering the day I took him out of the factory; but you don't comeit over me that way. It's a free country, sir; the man's _mine_, and Ido what I please with him--that's it. "

'And so fell George's last hope: nothing before him but a life of toiland drudgery, rendered more bitter by every little smarting vexationand indignity which tyrannical ingenuity could devise. ' One day Georgevisited his wife in a distracted state of feeling. '"I have beencareful, and I have been patient, " said he; "but it's growing worseand worse: flesh and blood can't bear it any longer. Every chance hecan get to insult and torment me, he takes. I thought I could do mywork well, and keep on quiet, and have some time to read and learn outof work-hours; but the more he sees I can do, the more he loads on. Hesays that though I don't say anything, he sees I've got the devil inme, and he means to bring it out; and one of these days it will comeout in a way that he wont like, or I'm mistaken. "

"O dear! what shall we do?" said Eliza mournfully. 

"It was only yesterday, " said George, "as I was busy loading stonesinto a cart, that young Mas'r Tom stood there, slashing his whip sonear the horse, that the creature was frightened. I asked him to stop, as pleasant as I could: he just kept right on. I begged him again, andthen he turned on me, and began striking me. I held his hand, and thenhe screamed, and kicked, and ran to his father, and told him that Iwas fighting him. He came in a rage, and said he'd teach me who was mymaster; and he tied me to a tree, and cut switches for young master, and told him that he might whip me till he was tired; and he did doit. If I don't make him remember it some time!" And the brow of theyoung man grew dark, and his eyes burned with an expression that madehis young wife tremble. "Who made this man my master--that's what Iwant to know?" he said. 

"Well, " said Eliza mournfully, "I always thought that I must obey mymaster and mistress, or I couldn't be a Christian. "

"There is some sense in it, in your case: they have brought you uplike a child--fed you, clothed you, indulged you, and taught you, sothat you have a good education--that is some reason why they shouldclaim you. But I have been kicked, and cuffed, and sworn at, and atthe best only let alone; and what do I owe? I've paid for all mykeeping a hundred times over. I _won't_ bear it--no, I _won't_!" hesaid, clenching his hand with a fierce frown. 

'Eliza trembled, and was silent. She had never seen her husband inthis mood before, and her gentle system of ethics seemed to bend likea reed in the surges of such passions. '

The end of this is, that George absconds, and is followed by his wifeand child, for she had overheard the bargain as to her transfer, andwas resolved to gain her liberty or die in the attempt. She leaves thehouse stealthily at night, with her boy in her arms, hurries overfields, through swamps and forests, and actually arrives at the Ohiowithout hinderance. 'Her first glance was at the river, which lay, like Jordan, between her and the Canaan of liberty on the other side. It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent;great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in theturbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentuckyside, the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodgedand detained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which sweptround the bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thusforming a temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged, andformed a great undulating raft, filling up the whole river, andextending almost to the Kentucky shore. Eliza stood for a momentcontemplating this unfavourable aspect of things, which she saw atonce must prevent the usual ferry-boat from running, and then turnedinto a small public-house on the bank, to make a few inquiries. ' Whileresting here, Haley, her infuriated pursuer, who had tracked her, arrived at the ferry, guided, not very willingly, by two slaves, Samand Andy. Eliza caught a glimpse of the trader, and, frantic withterror, rushed forth. 'A thousand lives seemed to be concentrated inthat one moment to Eliza. Her room opened by a side-door to the river. She caught her child, and sprang down the steps towards it. The tradercaught a full glimpse of her, just as she was disappearing down thebank; and throwing himself from his horse, and calling loudly on Samand Andy, he was after her like a hound after a deer. In that dizzymoment her feet to her scarce seemed to touch the ground, and a momentbrought her to the water's edge. Right on behind they came; and, nerved with strength such as God gives only to the desperate, with onewild cry and flying leap she vaulted sheer over the turbid current bythe shore on to the raft of ice beyond. It was a desperateleap--impossible to anything but madness and despair; and Haley, Sam, and Andy, instinctively cried out, and lifted up their hands, as shedid it. 

'The huge green fragment of ice on which she alighted pitched andcreaked as her weight came on it, but she stayed there not a moment. With wild cries and desperate energy, she leaped to another and stillanother cake; stumbling, leaping, slipping, springing upwards again!Her shoes are gone--her stockings cut from her feet--while bloodmarked every step; but she saw nothing, felt nothing, till dimly, asin a dream, she saw the Ohio side, and a man helping her up the bank. 

"Yer a brave gal, now, whoever ye ar!" said the man. 

'Eliza recognised the voice and face of a man who owned a farm not farfrom her old home. 

"Oh, Mr Symmes!--save me--do save me--do hide me!" said Eliza. 

"Why, what's this?" said the man. "Why, if 'tan't Shelby's gal!"

"My child!--this boy--he'd sold him! There is his mas'r, " said she, pointing to the Kentucky shore. "Oh, Mr Symmes, you've got a littleboy. "

"So I have, " said the man, as he roughly, but kindly, drew her up thesteep bank. "Besides, you're a right brave gal. I like grit wherever Isee it. "

'When they had gained the top of the bank, the man paused. "I'd beglad to do something for ye, " said he; "but then there's nowhar Icould take ye. The best I can do is to tell ye to go _thar_, " said he, pointing to a large white house which stood by itself, off the mainstreet of the village. "Go thar; they're kind folks. Thar's no kind o'danger but they'll help you: they're up to all that sort o' thing. "

"The Lord bless you!" said Eliza earnestly. 

"No 'casion, no 'casion in the world, " said the man. "What I've done'sof no 'count. "

"And oh, surely, sir, you won't tell any one!"

"Go to thunder, gal! What do you take a feller for? In course not, "said the man. "Come, now, go along like a likely, sensible gal, as youare. You've arnt your liberty, and you shall have it, for all me. "

'The woman folded her child to her bosom, and walked firmly andswiftly away. The man stood and looked after her. 

"Shelby, now, mebbe won't think this yer the most neighbourly thing inthe world; but what's a feller to do? If he catches one of my gals inthe same fix, he's welcome to pay back. Somehow I never could see nokind o' critter a-strivin' and pantin', and trying to clartheirselves, with the dogs arter 'em, and go agin 'em. Besides, Idon't see no kind of 'casion for me to be hunter and catcher for otherfolks neither. "

'So spoke this poor heathenish Kentuckian, who had not been instructedin his constitutional relations, and consequently was betrayed intoacting in a sort of Christianised manner, which, if he had been bettersituated and more enlightened, he would not have been left to do. 

'Haley had stood a perfectly amazed spectator of the scene, till Elizahad disappeared up the bank, when he turned a blank, inquiring look onSam and Andy. 

"That ar was a tolable fair stroke of business, " said Sam. 

"The gal's got seven devils in her, I believe, " said Haley. "How likea wild-cat she jumped!"

"Wal, now, " said Sam, scratching his head, "I hope mas'r'll 'scuse ustryin' dat ar road. Don't think I feel spry enough for dat ar, noway!"and Sam gave a hoarse chuckle. 

"_You_ laugh!" said the trader with a growl. "I'll make ye laught'other side yer mouths!" and he began laying about their heads withhis riding-whip. 

'Both ducked, and ran shouting up the bank, and were on their horsesbefore he was up. 

"Good-evening, mas'r, " said Sam, with much gravity. "I berry much'spect missis be anxious. Missis wouldn't hear of our ridin' thecritters over Lizy's bridge to-night;" and he started off, followed byAndy, at full speed, their shouts of laughter coming faintly on thewind. '

Having gone this length, we may as well conclude the episode of Eliza. It may be generally known, that runaway slaves are in many instancesfavoured by the kindly aid of a denomination unwearied inwell-doing--the Society of Friends. By a family belonging to thisrespectable body, Eliza, her child, and husband, were succoured andforwarded, under various disguises, to the northern frontier of theStates, on their way to Canada. For the final crisis, on the shore ofLake Erie, Eliza was dressed in male attire, and seemed a handsomeyoung man. Harry figured as a little girl. 

'Mrs Smyth, a respectable woman from the settlement of Canada, whitherthey were fleeing, being fortunately about crossing the lake to returnthither, had consented to appear as the aunt of little Harry; and inorder to attach him to her, he had been allowed to remain the last twodays under her sole charge; and an extra amount of petting, joined toan indefinite amount of seed-cakes and candy, had cemented a veryclose attachment on the part of the young gentleman. 

'The hack drove to the wharf. The two young men, as they appeared, walked up the plank into the boat, Eliza gallantly giving her arm toMrs Smyth, and George attending to their baggage. 

'George was standing at the captain's office, settling for his party, when he overheard two men talking by his side. 

"I've watched every one that came on board, " said one, "and I knowthey're not on this boat. "

'The voice was that of the clerk of the boat. The speaker whom headdressed was Marks, a friend of Haley, who had come on to Sandusky, seeking whom he might devour. 

"You would scarcely know the woman from a white one, " said Marks. "Theman is a very light mulatto. He has a brand in one of his hands. "

'The hand with which George was taking the tickets and change trembleda little; but he turned coolly around, fixed an unconcerned glance onthe face of the speaker, and walked leisurely toward another part ofthe boat, where Eliza stood waiting for him. 

'Mrs Smyth, with little Harry, sought the seclusion of the ladies'cabin, where the dark beauty of the supposed little girl drew manyflattering comments from the passengers. 

'George had the satisfaction, as the bell rang out its farewell peal, to see Marks walk down the plank, to the shore; and drew a long sighof relief when the boat had put a returnless distance between them. 

'It was a superb day. The blue waves of Lake Erie danced rippling andsparkling in the sunlight. A fresh breeze blew from the shore, and thelordly boat ploughed her way right gallantly onward. 

'Oh what an untold world there is in one human heart! Who thought, asGeorge walked calmly up and down the deck of the steamer, with his shycompanion at his side, of all that was burning in his bosom? Themighty good that seemed approaching seemed too good, too fair, even tobe a reality; and he felt a jealous dread every moment of the day thatsomething would rise to snatch it from him. 

'But the boat swept on--hours fleeted, and, at last, clear and fullrose the blessed English shore--shores charmed by a mighty spell--withone touch to dissolve every incantation of slavery, no matter in whatlanguage pronounced, or by what national power confirmed. 

'George and his wife stood arm in arm as the boat neared the smalltown of Amherstberg, in Canada. His breath grew thick and short; amist gathered before his eyes; he silently pressed the little handthat lay trembling on his arm. The bell rang--the boat stopped. Scarcely seeing what he did, he looked out his baggage, and gatheredhis little party. The company were landed on the shore. They stoodstill till the boat had cleared; and then, with tears and embracings, the husband and wife, with their wondering child in their arms, kneltdown, and lifted up their hearts to God!

 ''Twas something like the burst from death to life; From the grave's cerements to the robes of heaven; From sin's dominion, and from passion's strife, To the pure freedom of a soul forgiven; Where all the bonds of death and hell are riven, And mortal puts on immortality, When Mercy's hand hath turned the golden key, And Mercy's voice hath said: "Rejoice, thy soul is free. "

'The party were soon guided by Mrs Smyth to the hospitable abode of agood missionary, whom Christian charity has placed here as a shepherdto the outcast and wandering, who are constantly finding an asylum onthis shore. 

'Who can speak the blessedness of that first day of freedom? Is notthe _sense_ of liberty a higher and finer one than any of the five? Tomove, speak, and breathe, go out and come in unwatched and free fromdanger! Who can speak the blessings of that rest which comes down onthe free man's pillow, under laws which insure to him the rights thatGod has given to man? How fair and precious to that mother was thatsleeping child's face, endeared by the memory of a thousand dangers!How impossible was it to sleep in the exuberant possession of suchblessedness! And yet these two had not one acre of ground, not a roofthat they could call their own; they had spent their all, to the lastdollar. They had nothing more than the birds of the air, or theflowers of the field; yet they could not sleep for joy. "O ye who takefreedom from man, with what words shall ye answer it to God?"'

With this episode, we close for the present, and will go into thehistory of Uncle Tom in a subsequent paper. 

FOOTNOTES:

[2] We understand that Mrs H. B. Stowe has received from herpublishers the sum of _ten thousand three hundred dollars_, as hercopyright premium on three months' sale of _Uncle Tom'sCabin_. -_Boston newspaper. _

FORTUNES OF A LITERARY GOLD-SEEKER. 

The same passion for gold-seeking, which in our day has developeditself in a new form, raged in Europe from the depth of the middleages till the eighteenth century was far advanced. By the arrival ofthe latter period, however, a good deal of discredit had beenthrown upon the business; awkward revelations had been made;well-authenticated facts had been turned outside in; and, in fine, theworld's dread laugh helped not a little to put down the conviction ofages. That conviction did not relate to the existence of naturalhoards of the precious metal. Such idle dreams were left to thefanciful and superstitious, whose stores were usually situated in thebosom of mountains, and guarded by gnomes and demons. The others weremore rational and practical: they sought to obtain their end by meansof legitimate science, based upon virtue and religious faith. Thisbasis is the only thing that since then has been unanimouslyabandoned; for philosophers are still by no means agreed as to theimpossibility of making gold. 

Only a few of the gold-seekers of the present day are literary men, for the pickaxe does not very naturally replace the pen; but at thetime we speak of, almost the whole tribe were authors. Borel, in 1654, makes the list amount to 4000; but this is an exaggeration; many ofhis names being imaginary, and some cut into several pieces. We havebefore us, however, a catalogue by a less zealous compiler, broughtbetween eighty and ninety years further down, containing about 2500treatises by about 900 authors--a number which we consider not theleast remarkable of the facts connected with the hermetic science. Allthese works, with the exception of a small number, are in Latin; andten of them are the production of a certain Bernard Trevisan_us_, togive him his learned name, although he was born at Padua in 1406. Wedo not, however, particularise this author on account of the value ofhis books, for we are thankful to say we have never seen his _SecretWork of Chemistry_, or his _Philosophers' Egg_, or, in fact, a singleline he has written;[3] but we look upon him in his personal characteras the very ideal of a gold-seeker; and we are on that account anxiousto rescue his name from the obscurity in which it rests. 

Bernard's attachment for his life-long profession was spontaneous, perhaps instinctive. He had no need to apply himself to make theprecious metals, for he was born with a piece of one of them in hismouth--the piece which is technically called a silver spoon. He hadthe rank of count; and his father, a doctor of medicine, leaving him asufficient fortune, he had nothing to do but to enjoy the world in anyway he thought fit. We shall see how he managed. When only fourteenyears of age, he fell in with one of the works of the Arabianphysician Rhasis, and this led him, after four years' labour, to thefountain-head of the occult philosophy, Geber. The latter, next toHermes himself, is the acknowledged chief of the science, and Trevisanfound himself in good hands; although he wished he had made hisacquaintance earlier, as he had already spent to no purpose about 800crowns. The reader must not suppose that the wealth of adepts vanishedin the common operations of chemistry; for in point of fact, thematerial consumed was the material sought for--gold. Some, indeed, supposed that by subliming or purifying the imperfect metals to a highenough degree, they might convert them into the perfect one; but ingeneral it was acknowledged that there was no way of making gold butby means of gold itself. The philosopher's stone, as it was called, was a powder containing the pure essence of gold, and how to obtainthis was the question. 

Trevisan was not without friends and advisers in the great search. Philosophers gathered about him like bees; and by their assistance, together with the formulæ in the works of Geber, he had soon spent2000 crowns more. But he was not discouraged. He applied to thetreatises of Archelaus, Rufreissa, and Sacro-bosco; associated a monkwith him in his experiments; and in the course of three years hadrectified spirits of wine more than thirty times, till it reached apoint at which no glass was strong enough to hold it. That was verywell; but it cost more than 300 crowns, and he was no nearer hisobject than before. 

He now began to dissolve, congeal, and sublime common salt, sal-ammonia, the alums, and copperas; and in distillation, circulation, and sublimation, he spent twelve busy years, at a cost ofabout 6000 crowns. Trevisan almost lost faith in human science, andset himself earnestly to pray for illumination. In this he wasassisted by a magistrate of his own country; but while invoking divineaid, they were all the while working away with marine salt. Thissubstance they continued to rectify for eight months without findingany change in its nature. It will be seen, that the object of allthese experiments was to find a solvent powerful enough to separatethe essence of gold from its material, the spirit from the body; butit now struck him like a flash of lightning, that aqua fortis must bethe thing; and throwing himself upon this substance in its state ofgreatest intensity, he tried it first upon silver, then upon commonmercury--but all in vain. 

However, our Bernard was still in the flower of his age--he was onlyforty-six: nothing for a philosopher. He began to travel, with theview of collecting wisdom in his way; and at length fell in withMaître Geoffrey Leuvrier, a Cistercian monk, a man after his ownheart. These congenial companions set to work at first upon hens'eggs, calcining even the shells; till at the end of eight laboriousyears, devoted to these and other substances, they had acquired theskill of at least preparing in an artistic manner the furnaces used intheir operations. After this, he attached himself to anothertheological friend, who was prothonotary of Berghes, in Flanders; andwith him he worked during fourteen months in distilling copperas withvinegar. But the result of the experiments was nothing better than aquartan-ague. 

When Bernard began to get better, the interesting intelligence came tohis ears, that Maître Henry, confessor of the Emperor Ferdinand III. , possessed the secret of the philosopher's stone. Our adept, therefore, set out at once for Germany, and by means of the good offices offriends, and the liberal expenditure of money, obtained anintroduction to the fortunate man. With him he set to work with a goodheart; but after rectifying and dissolving till they were tired, hefound that he had only succeeded in melting away 300 crowns more ofhis wealth. The thing grew serious. He was now fifty-eight. He couldafford to dally no longer: it was necessary to find the secret of thehermetic science at once, or give up the search. Trevisan ponderedover his critical position for two entire months; but at the end ofthat time a ray of hope flashed across the gloom of his meditations. The nature of the hope we do not know; we can only tell what was thecourse of action on which it determined him. He arose suddenly fromhis depression, and, girding up his loins, began to travel. He wentfirst to Rome; then to Spain; then to Turkey; then to Greece. Hepassed into Egypt; then into Barbary; then visited Rhodes; and thentraversed a portion of Palestine and Persia. He then returned toFrance, by way of Messina, and visited England, Scotland, and finallyGermany. Wherever he went, it was the same thing. The phantom hefollowed fled as he pursued; and alike in the heart of London, and inthe deserts of the Holy Land, he saw appearing, and then vanishing, inthe distance--

 The unreached paradise of his despair. 

That the secret existed, there could be no doubt; for it was a part ofTrevisan's creed that it was born before the Flood; that it wasrevealed to the Israelites in their passage through the Desert; andthat it had thus been handed down through the various generations ofmen. In his own travels, there was no want of true philosophers here, there, and everywhere. But they were alone; they kept their science tothemselves; and they fixed upon the inquirer a stony gaze, whichpetrified his heart. Pretenders, on the contrary, were as open asday--there was no end to their civilities: but their favours wereexpensive; they cost altogether, including his travelling expenses, about 13, 000 crowns; and he was at length obliged to sell an estatewhich had produced him the agreeable little revenue of 8000 Germanflorins. 

Bernard was now sixty-two years of age, within a year of his grandclimacteric. He had succeeded in divesting himself by degrees of allhis property, with the exception of what afforded him a very baresubsistence; and his relatives, incensed at a conduct which theirignorance of science prevented them from appreciating, had turnedtheir backs upon him. Poor, friendless, and alone, he had hatched his_Philosophers' Egg_ to some purpose; and now what was he to do? Hemust, in the first place, find some cheap retirement, where he couldat least live; and accordingly he set out for a place he had visitedin his travels--the island of Rhodes. Why he should have chosen theisland of Rhodes more than any other island, or an island more thanany part of the mainland, it would be difficult to tell. But Bernardspeedily saw that he had been conducted thither by the hand ofdestiny; for in his solitary wanderings he encountered a monk whom heat once recognised as a kindred spirit. It would be too long to tellhow they fell into talk about the Companions of Cadmus, the Doves ofDiana, the Dragon, the Serpent, and the Nymphs; of the Male, theFemale, and the Hermaphrodite; of the Hermetic Sulphur which exists ingold, and of the means of coagulating with this sulphur the sacredMercury. Suffice it to say, that their conversation excited in them anintense desire to experiment, and an absolute conviction that thecollision of two such intellects would strike out the sublime spark oftruth. But how to manage? Gold could not be made without the aid ofgold; and they had not a piece between them. But here the lucky starsof our philosopher interposed. Bernard fell in with a merchant to whomhis family was known, and his adventures unknown; and the good man hadthe kindness to lend him 8000 florins. This was a trifling debt toincur at a time when he stood on the very brink of the Secret; and thetwo friends set to work with a will. They occupied themselves forthree years in dissolving gold and silver; and then discovered thattheir fund was exhausted, and that nothing remained to them of alltheir labours but the embers of the fire. 

Trevisan applied to philosophy for consolation: he set himself to readattentively Arnold of Villenova. This 'great theologian, skilfulphysician, and learned alchemist, ' as we are assured by Andreas, acelebrated lawyer of his day, was in the habit of making gold atpleasure; but not satisfied with this triumph, he would needsinterfere in the concerns of religion, and more especially scandalisedthe whole orthodox world by affirming, 'that the works of charity andmedicine are more agreeable to God than the services of the altar. ' Hewas likewise the master in the sublime science of the famous RaymondLully, who, as is well known to English history (although the fact isomitted by the historians), converted in one operation 50, 000 lbs. Weight of mercury, lead, and tin, into pure gold, which was coinedinto rose nobles. Raymond, like his master, was a great theologian, and the grand aspiration of his life, to which he finally fell amartyr, was the conversion of the infidels. In reading him, also--forBernard was led naturally from one to the other--he was greatly struckwith that blending of religion with science which is observable inalmost all the Hermetic books, where the practical part ofChristianity, the love of God and man, is inculcated as thefundamental maxim. On this he pondered for eight years, by which timehe had attained the ripe age of seventy-three, and then at length themind of the adept opened to the Secret he had been so long and soblindly pursuing. 

His Search was successful. He was now able to separate the pure spiritfrom the material gold that had all his life been harmonising andfusing, and while reading the books of the alchemists, to collecttheir truths, and pass over their errors as dross. It was two yearsbefore he had fairly accustomed his mind to this view of the subject;but his life was prolonged for five years more, during which time, notwithstanding his poverty and solitude, he probably enjoyed the onlyreal happiness he had ever known. He reached the age of eighty-four, and, in the year 1490, gave up his last breath with a smile. If abystander had inquired at the moment he was passing away, what it waswhich gave this illumination to his countenance, and this tranquillityto his heart, he would doubtless have answered, _the philosopher'sstone_. 

After his death, he obtained the reputation he had missed when living. His works were widely circulated, and some of them printed so late as1672. They were reckoned an important help to the student of hermeticscience; and the name of the luckless Bernard Trevisan was alwaysincluded in the list of great adepts. 

FOOTNOTES:

[3] The French author of the catalogue we allude to (1742) whiledeclaring that it is good for people to know what the books are, counsels them to read very little of them, and to do nothing at allthat they recommend. 

LACON'S BOAT-LOWERING APPARATUS. 

The want of a ready means of lowering boats from vessels in distressedcircumstances, has been exemplified with the most tragical results insuch cases as those of the _Orion_, _Birkenhead_, and _Amazon_. Mr W. S. Lacon, late of the H. E. I. C. 's service, has invented a plan formaking them quickly available, which seems likely to be successful. Itwas tried on the 5th August by the Regatta Committee at Folkestone, with the approval of a great number of persons professionallyqualified to pronounce on the subject. The wind was blowing stronglyfrom the southwest, with a heavy surge running. This proved fortunate, for the better testing of the efficacy of the system. In the firsttrial, a boat was lowered from the steamer by one man, with severalpersons on board, and alighted on the water, abaft of the larboardpaddle-box, with the utmost safety and apparent comfort, the tacklebeing released momentarily by the weight of the boat's descent, thevessel at the time steaming at the rate of 12-1/2 knots per hour. Itwas afterwards hoisted up again by two men. At the second trial, theboat was lowered and cleared from the ship by one man, with Mr Laconand three men on board, the vessel at the time maintaining full speed. The same experiments were performed several times during the day, in asimilarly successful manner. The apparatus employed by Mr Lacon isvery compact and simple, being fixed under the deck-seats, so as to benot in the least incommodious. In treating of this patent invention, the _Liverpool Mercury_ says, Mr Lacon has succeeded in 'solving aproblem which has hitherto baffled the ingenuity of scientific andpractical men, and attaining the "_desideratum_ of lowering boatsevenly, and of rapidly disengaging the tackles, " by a self-actingcontrivance. Mr Lacon takes as his principle the well-known axiom inmechanics, that what is gained in power is lost in time; and althoughhe approves of the method at present in use, as being the best forhoisting up boats: he (seeing that the hoisting need never be ahurried operation) substitutes two single ropes or chains, which, being secured to two broad slings passing round the body of the boat, are then brought inboard on davits, and carried to two concave barrelsconnected together by means of a shaft. The ends of the ropes orchains are secured to the barrels in such a manner that they willsupport any amount of weight until such time as the boat has reachedthe water, when they will disconnect and fall away from theirattachment by their own weight, by which means he prevents thepossibility of a ship, in its onward progress through a rough sea, dragging forward a lowered boat sideways, and capsizing or swampingit. By means, then, of a friction-strap and pulley round the shaft, one man is enabled to regulate the descent of the boat, which will godown by its own weight; and by means of the parallel action of the twobarrels, he lowers both ends uniformly, and insures the boat fallingin a proper position on the water. '

IGNORANCE THE GREAT CAUSE OF POVERTY. 

There are, in every fully-peopled country, large numbers of personswhose lives are passed in hardship and misery, and whose greatestexertions can do no more for them than procure the barest means ofsubsistence. These are greatly to be pitied, and it should be thestudy of the government, and of all who possess the means, to remove, as far as possible, the causes of their misfortune. It cannot, however, be said that any competition, save only that which theythemselves naturally and necessarily exhibit among their class, forobtaining the inadequate amount of employment for which they arefitted, is chargeable with the hardships they endure. It is amelancholy truth, as concerns the individuals, that we cannot extendto them any indirect relief without tending to increase the evil byraising an addition to their number. How, then, is their condition tobe mended? The only way, it appears to me, is to fit them for enteringinto competition with others above them in the social scale by meansof instruction, which shall enable them to give a greater value to theservices which they render, and thus entitle them to command a greatervalue of services in return. We need entertain no fear lest, by thisletting in competition upon the class above them, we shall lower theselatter in the scale of society. So long as the capital in the countryshall continue to increase in a greater proportion than itspopulation, there must always be found additional employment andbetter remuneration for those whose labour is capable of adding to thenational wealth. It may with more truth be stated, that theconsequence to the community of the existence of any large number ofdestitute persons, is to keep down the general rate of wages, positively, through the absorption of capital required for theirrelief, and, negatively, through the absence of those additions tocapital which the surplus services of instructed artisans alwaysoccasion. --_G. R. Porter's Lecture at Wandsworth, entitled 'Servicesfor Services. ' London: Clowes. _ 1851. 

A WEE BIT NAME. 

SHEPHERD _loquitur_. --An' a wee bit name--canna it carry a weight o'love?--_Noctes Ambrosianæ_, No. Lxxii. 

 A wee bit name! O wae's the heart When nought but _that_ is left, But doubly dear it comes to be When time a' else hath reft, An' youth, an' hope, an' innocence, An' happiness, an' hame, Are a' concentred in a word, That word--a wee bit name. 

 Back through the weary waste o' years My memory is borne, An' gurglin' streams, an' thickets green, An' fields o' yellow corn: An' lanely glens, an' sunny hills Upon my spirit gleam, The phantoms o' the past before That spell--a wee bit name. 

 O vision sweet! a fair, fair face, A young, but thochtfu' brow, Twa gentle een o' azure sheen, Are beamin' on me noo. Be still, my beatin' heart--be still; It's but an idle dream: She heeds na though wi' tremblin' joy I breathe a wee bit name. 

 A wee bit name! O lives there ane That never, never felt Its pathos an' its wizard power To saften and to melt? No--callous though the bosom be Wi' years o' sin an' shame, 'Twill melt like snaw in summer's sun Before some wee bit name. 

 A wee bit name! the rod whose touch Bids hidden waters start, The torch that lichts the pile upon The altar o' the heart, An' kindles what wad else decay, Into a holy flame: A sacred influence may lie Within a wee bit name!

 C. 

 * * * * *

Printed and Published by W. And R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. Also sold by W. S. ORR, Amen Corner, London; D. N. CHAMBERS, 55 WestNile Street, Glasgow; and J. M'GLASHAN, 50 Upper Sackville Street, Dublin. --Advertisements for Monthly Parts are requested to be sent toMAXWELL & CO. , 31 Nicholas Lane, Lombard Street, London, to whom allapplications respecting their insertion must be made.