cided support, not only of the German gest of their Recollections' as this Prince. Press in general, among which the Rheinische Written with no apparent purpose of proZeitung has spoken out most clearly, but ducing effect, or even with the design of even of the Liberal Austrian Press. It might be expected that the fate of Maximilian would induce Austrian journals to be rather severe against the Mexican Republic. But the fact is that papers like the Neue Freie Presse of Vienna, a Liberal organ of the most extensive circulation, and one which exercises great influence even beyond the frontiers of Austria, acknowledge in the strongest terms that the procedure of the Mexican Government is the only one which it could possibly take without dereliction of national dignity. We speak of articles that have appeared since the reply to Mr. Kinglake's interpellation was given by Lord Stanley. Now, when the Austrian Press maintains such views, we think the English Government might make the first step towards a reconciliation without fear for its own dignity. In the interest of trade and commerce the re-establishment of a regular intercourse ought not to be delayed any longer.

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publication, the literary merit of the work is very considerable. We meet with descriptions which are vivid, reflections which are simple but ardent, and an acquaintance with several branches of art which, perhaps, the majority of readers had hardly been fed to expect from Maximilian. We should say, for example, that Naples has seldom been better described, nor Pisa, Pompeii, Lucca, Baice, and Capri. Those who have visited these places will recognise at once that no unskilled or unfamiliar hand has touched these modest yet artistic pictures. But the author seems especially to delight in describing works of art, and to excel in the description. After wandering through the Pitti gallery at Florence, he notes down in his diary, with regard to a picture of the First Napoleon, whose soul the artist had depicted as in hell:

The Pisans recognise with delight the head of Napoleon in hell in one of them, and this is but natural; it is characteristic of mankind to condemn the hated fallen enemy, and to rejoice over his disgrace; one does not risk anything by it, for he has become harmless. As long as the Pisan hell-figure was called Roi d'Italie, there was not gold enough to be found to represent the nimbus In his apotheosis; but the god of the day fell from the heavens, and the holy light was converted into the glow of hell. Sic transit

And, again, in speaking of the necessary influence of religious belief on art, he says:

Constantinople had fallen before the sword of Mohammed. Græco-Byzantine art and philoso

IN the Midsummer of 1851, Maximilian started on his first sea-voyage. "I was glad," he says, "to realise my much-longed-gloria mundi. for desire. Accompanied by several acquaintances, I put off from the dearly-loved shore of Africa. This moment was one of great excitement to me, for it was the first time I confided myself to the sea for a long phy and the rich sciences of the East found a trip. We dashed rapidly through the waves, home in Italy, through the luxurious spirit of and already, at about a quarter past seven the Medici, which in its turn conferred splen(July 30th), amidst the strains of the na-dour on their new dynasty. The tiara was tional hymn, we went on board the frigate Novara, our future floating palace, of which the name itself was a good omen to every Austrian."

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Throughout the first volume of these 'Recollections' we are treated only to the visits of the Prince to Italy, Andalusia, and Granada. Nothing of a political kind is found in this volume in the way of reference, opinion, or incident. It is simply a most interesting record, a diary," of Maximilian's pleasure-trip in days when the shadows of his future throne could cast no gloom on his imagination; but when, surrounded by his friends, he opened his heart to free enjoyment and his mind to intelligent observation. Few tourists, if we may apply the word to such a traveller, have contributed to the press so admirable a di

borne by a Medici, and the hitherto forgotten treasures of Rome were wedded to Greek recollections, which brought forth a new epoch in art, the Mythologico-Christian. The Lord's Supper was celebrated in the Temple: Venus got the same court-rank as the God-mother. It was in harmony with such a state of things to blend the customs of antiquity with those of modern times, and call this philosophy. But from this resulted an unsatisfied Ideal. Men discovered that the gods of antiquity only represented men; and the pride of the senses which took possession of the heart, and laid in it the first produced great things in art and science, themselves to be a kind of divinity, needing no germ of atheism. The very princes believed longer to be afraid of the old God. They nursed religion only as a convenient state institution for their subjects. In France Francis I. was the chief supporter of the worship of the Syrens,

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round which he attempted to throw n nimbus | and busts of the King." We can appreciate by the arts of Italy. Catherine di Medici was the satirical remark of Maximilian on this too zealous in the service of Aphrodite, and Louis odd conjuncture: “I do not like to see, XIV. Jupiterised himself entirely: A vanity during a monarch's lifetime, monuments that coull be satisfied, vanity and the apotheosis everywhere erected to him, out of base of sensuality, became the philosophy of rulers.

flattery." These ideas soon descended to the people, and

In the second part of the introductory volwere fed by their rulers and celebrated in their songs, and finally had their chief representative ume we find our traveller in Andalusin; and, in Voltaire. France sared Italy partly by con

at first, a minute description of the Cathecentrating these ideas in herself"; but she had to dral of Seville, and, afterwards, one of the pay for this glory with her blood. The tombs of Cathedral of Granada, occupy considerable the Medici produce thoughts of a very cold and space. Then we take a sudden leap into a terrible kind.

wholly different kind of entertainment; and We find but passing allusions in this vol- we wish that space would permit us to tranume to any of the royal persons whom mod- of a genuine bull-figlit, which the Prince

scribe at length a magnificent description ern revolutions rendered illustrious, at least

had the fortune (or ill-fortune) to witness, by circumstance if not in character. At

for the first time in his life, at Seville. But Naples Maximilian met King Ferdinand, of whom perhaps he might be supposed to be giving his after-thoughts, some of which thinking when, in another part of his diary, will at least be easily comprehended by he wrote: “ It is only when a man either does deeds, or resists a progressive devel- every English reader. How the feelings

of opment, that his name is noted down in

a man can be changed,” says the Prince,

“in the books of Clio."

so short a space as a quarter of an hour!

On entering, I felt uneasy, and very uncomA tall strong man, with short cropped hair fortable; and now a mania for the bloody and beard, and with a laced three-cornered hat, spectacle possessed me.” And again : "The received us ; my good genius whispered to me spectator's nature is soon changed; his orithat it was the King. Indeed, it must have ginal nature is awakened; wild passion been a higher revelation, for I had imagined gains the mastery, and he is annoyed when King Ferdinand to be a different man. His fig- the bull does not succeed in his deadly ure still floated before me indistinctly, as I saw him fifteen years ago in Vienna, when he was a

thrust, when phases of the fight are not young man of twenty-six years of age. Now, to steeped deep enough in blood.” All this be sure, he was forty-one, but, from his appear- one can perfectly comprehend ; but there ance, one would have taken him for a man con- follows a passage which will shock the tensiderably above fifty ; so much has the destroying der susceptibilities of not a few of those dispower of the South and the influence of the years cerning critics who draw a very wide disof revolution worked upon him. Later, when Itinction between taking a personal and hazhad an opportunity of examining him more ardous part in cruel sport, and merely assistclosely, I recognised the features of his youth, ing as a neutral spectator at a risk incurred but his fine black hair had turned grey and his by others : fice had become wrinkled. He wore the rather plain uniform of one of his regiments of Grena

I love such festivals, in which the original nadiers, which he prefers, I was told, to all others ture of man comes out in its truth ; and much since the revolution. The riband of the Aus- prefer them to the enervating, immoral entertrian Order of St. Stephen was hanging over his tainments of other luxurious and degenerate shoulder. He received me in the most friendly countries. Here bulls perish, there heart and manner, and conducted me directly to the Queen. soul sink in a weak, sentimental frivolity. I do

not deny it, I love the olden time ! not that of Elsewhere he describes the eldest son of the last century, where, amidst hair-powder and the King, the present Francis II., who was insipid idyls, men glided over a false paradise then but fifteen years of age.

" The

down the yawning abyss. No! the time of our young man is very timid; which may arise ancestors, when chivalrous feeling was developed partly from the manner in which he is edu- in the tournaments, when vigorous women did cated. He is kept out of the world that he not ask for their smelling-bottle at every drop

of blood, nor feigned a swoon, when the wild may remain child-like.” A curious obscrvation also is to be found, about this date, and not as now, behind barricades ; this was a

boar and bear were hunted in the open forest, to the effect that two things struck Maxi- vigorous time which brought forth strong chil. milian principally during his visit to the dren. What remains to us of this heritage of docks and arsenal of Naples — “ the great the manly amusements of cur fathers? Perhaps profusion of galley-slaves, dressed in red, the hunt? No! We call ourselves hunters, but who meet you on all sides, rattling their we send from a secure distance a killing bullet heavy chains, and the numberless portraits into the half-tamed boars. It is only war, which


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philanthropy cannot abolish, notwithstanding promenade in the shrubbery of the park like a their thirty years' exertions; and two sports ghost of his former self. In all matters of art have been preserved in two nations, which have the English are far behindhand : with them, not yet degenerated. The first sport is the fox- comfort and the practical are the principal things hunt in England, in which man exposes himself aimed at; art is not understood by them: it is to dangers worthy of himself, nor recoils before just the opposite with the Italians, who are so any obstacle ; and if it be said that it is useless enthusiastic“ per le belle arti," that they, for to risk one's life for useless purposes, I may an- art's sake, freeze like tailors in their giant palswer, I believe that those who shun unnecessary aces under fresco-painted ceilings ; Germans and dangers will not find the courage to meet inev- French alone succeed in uniting the two. itable ones.

The second sport is the bull-fight in Spain ; a true popular festival of the olden Certainly the Prince was a very observant time. It is true that they excite the passions, traveller, and a very lively writer. He was the inherent savageness of man, but so also they not one of those whom he himself describes do his strength, and whoever takes an enthusi- with deep contempt, “who believe themastic part in these scenes will not lack interest | selves in duty bound to travel; but think it for other things, and at least will not perish bad style in the highest degree to find inthrough apathy. In the Spanish people there is terest in anything interesting, or to get atstill a proud chivalry, and, notwithstanding the tracted, still less excited, by anything beausport transmitted to them by their forefathers, tiful.” It is refreshing to read the warm the Spaniards are devout and charitable. Everything has its season, and their variety is the high- generous language in which he suffers himest charm of human life.

self to express his admiration and attach

ment to his home and friends. He might A description, from an Austrian point of be prophetically describing his own disasview, of English dinners and English habits, trous future, when, alone almost in a strange will be found in the “ Visit to Gibraltar," land, he poured out his sorrows to his own of which incomparable fortress the Prince heart, and found relief in death. “I felt observes, with truth as well as irony: “How very sad, for it was the first time that I had glorious for England's proud sons, to find not been with my brother on this happy day," in all their voyages, at every turning point - his birthday. And then he proceeds to of their wide sea-roads, a bomb-proof hotel! describe his loneliness, in language which, They can everywhere find their countrymen, at least to us, is full of mournful meaning: and everywhere can sing under the blessed shade of their banner, "Rule Britannia !'" I was alone, quite alone in strange seas, He laughs at the “ Humourously executed under another sky ; besides, I thought so long statue of Elliot, the stubborn defender of and so deeply of one of my beloved at home, Gibraltar;" nor is he

very complimentary

about whom my heart was anxious, that I was to English art:

in one of those forlorn dispositions of mind in

which man feels a sort of sweet despair and longs With an immense old-fashioned hat on his for home. My family had made me too happy large head, the hair of which ended in a pigtail, at home; but it is well that such a life should with legs like a broomstick, the gilt keys of the have an end, and these heavy hours are a bitter fortress in his right hand, the old hero seems to but wholesome medicine.

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“A GUARDIAN," writing from Hitchin to the lated in connection with the “ Jewish Blind,” & Times on the question of vagrancy, attributes charity wbich, as its name indicates, has been its increase to the leniency of the magistrates: raised for the support of the blind among the and to prove his point cites two cases, the latter Jews. Sir Benjamin Phillips, the president of of which is certainly novel. It was that of a this institution, has been informed that a woman woman who had in her possession thirty-seven who had been stone-blind for about eight years shillings, and a skilfully constructed straw baby, had recently recovered the perfect use of her eyeby means of which she excited compassion. Per- sight. It appears that, during a thunder-storm haps the worthy magistrates let the woman off that prevailed some weeks since, she became sudfrom admiration of her ingenuity.

denly aware, as she expressed it, of “ a glimmer London Review. of light," and from that time to the present her

vision has improved daily ; perfect eyesight is A CURIOUS circumstance, and one which we now restored to her. recommend to the notice of medical men, is re

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London Review,

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LINDA TRESSEL, by the Author of Nina Balatka. Price 38 cts.



HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE REIGN OF GEORGE II. These very interesting and valuable sketches of Queen Caroline, Sir Robert Walpole, Lord Chesterfield, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, Pope, and other celebrated characters of the time of George II., several of which have already appeared in the LIVING AGE, reprinted from Blackwood's Magazine, will be issued from this oflice, in book form, as soon as completed.

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FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year, nor where we have to pay commission for forwarding the money.

Price of the First Series, in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars.

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Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expenso of the publishers.

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For 5 new subscribers ($40.), a sixth copy; or a set of HORNE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, unabridged, in 4 large volumes, cloth, price $10; or any 5 of the back volumes of the LIVING AGE, in numbers, price $10.



And young souls still must weep and part,
The day is sunny, and the air is free

And old ones yearn for a sleep of heart;
And joyous in the light. All, all is bright!

For Time ingulfs our life's dreams one by one,
But where is she?

As Earth the setting sun!
0, that I could but bear myself away
From these dry dusty streets, to be one hour

And yet, as slowly home in that still night
Within that far-off Dell, where sunbeams play

We went, oft pausing, betwixt shadowy woods,
Upon a myriad cool green leaves and flowering Beam'd forth. And when I bade her look, and

Lo! in the twilight clear the Vesper-star
And the brook gurgles on its way,

Trickling adown the rocks from pool to pool,

“Our sun is down, and yet Love's star is shinFresh’ning the noontide hour with murmurs

She smiled, and press'd my arm, - and we went cool !

home. There is a light step in that Summer dell Ah! then how sweet she look'd, The gentle rustling of a silken dress;

There 'neath the Planet, -as her eyes, suffused, And pausing in still loveliness,

Beam'd back the radiance of Love's starry Sweet eyes look dreamily into the brook.

home! How would they look Were mine to meet them in the mirroring

O Sunshine! making all things glad wave ?

As if thou wert the god of this fair world! If, coming up unseen, I could but peep

How is it that we prize Over her shoulder, and delighted trace

All bright things most when they seem near to Bright on the pool the sunshine of her face?

die? Would she not startle with a troubled splendour, What light so loved as that of setting suns — As oft I've seen it breaking from her eyes,

What rose so dear as the bright summer's last? Like the soft wild-fire of the summer-rrights;

And Love, which else had borne itself in calm, And, turning, smile and let my arm go round Grows madness as it nears the last adieu! her,

Ah me! so slow to learn this world's ruleAnd we be happy for one bright brief hour! The Heart must be content, although not full!

One evening, on the slopes above that

I watched with her the dying of the sun,

Looking across wide moor and sleeping woods

“Thou hast made us for Thyself: and the heart To where the Orb sank 'neath the far-off hills.

never resteth till it findeth rest in Thee." - St. The golden light lay round us on the slope, Augustine. Fast ebbing upwards on the hill behind, Chased by the rising flood of twilight shadow.

MADE for Thyself, O God ! Below, lay slumbering woods and darkening Made to shew forth Thy wisdom, grace, and

Made for Thy love, Thy service, Thy delight; dells, – And in the air, and everywhere,

might; The hush of solitude and coming Night.

Made for Thy praise, whom veiled archangels

laud ! And so we stood, with interlacing arms, And watched the bright Orb sinking

O strange and glorious thought, that we may be Slow — slow — but ebbing, waning ever

A joy to Thee ! Inexorable! irresistible!

Yet the heart turns away Not all the strength, we felt, of all on Earth

From this grand destiny of bliss, and deems Could for one moment its glad light prolong!

'Twas made for its poor self for passing dreams! It touched the low range of the western hills,

Chasing illusions melting day by day, And on the far horizon seem'd to rest

Till for ourselves we read on this world's best,
A disk sublime of ruddy golden light:

“ This is not rest !”
Then its bright face was segmented, as down
Down - down it sank, red-beaning to the last, Nor can the vain toil cease
Till the top rim was gone, and the black line Till in the shadowy maze of life we meet
Of Earth, like Death, had swallow'd all. One, who can guide our aching, wayward feet,
And then we look'd into each other's face To find Himself, our Way, our Life, our Peace,
With bright eyes that grew sad; and neither In Him the long unrest is soothed and stilled;

Our hearts are filled.
But each press'd closer to the other's side.
Two hearts then felt a fear they would not speak, O rest, so true, so sweet!
And yearn’d to be together whilst they may !

(Would it were shared by all the weary world !)

'Neath shadowing banner of His love unfurled,
Poor Hearts! it is an old, old story We bend to kiss the Master's pierced feet;
You there saw pictured in the evening sky, Then lean our love upon His boundless breast,
All bright things die!

And know God's rest!
Love, even, has not immortality!

Sunday Magazine,

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