alive, his brother officers, while they were yet in the field, jestingly asked him where was his prophecy now. Prendergast gravely answered, "I shall die notwithstanding what you see.' Soon afterwards there came a shot from a French battery, to which the orders for a cessation of arms had not reached, and he was killed upon the spot. Colonel Cecil, who took possession of his effects, found in his pocketbook the following solemn entry: "Dreamtor Sir John Freind meets me" (here the very day on which he was killed was mentioned). Prendergast had been connected with Sir John Freind, who was executed for high treason. General Oglethorpe said he was with Colonel Cecil when Pope came and inquired into the truth of this story, which made a great noise at the time, and was then confirmed by the colonel.

the Spanish frontier, under the shadow of Mont Canigon, and hanging over the gorges of the River Tech, and its tributary, the Mondony, has been this week en fête, and middle-class French and Spaniards, and peasants of both countries, have flocked in for their annual jollification. The usual gambling-stalls, where you invest your sou and run your chance for a packet of sweatmeats or whatever else you have a mind to, offered temptations as irresistible as ever; the bains and boissons refreshed the guests as far as hot-sulphur waters can refresh, and the time passed gaily with music and dancing à la Catalan. But chief among the attractions, and that which is looked forward to as the great event of the feast, is the bull-fight. For days the terrace on which the thermes Romains are placed was in preparation for the occasion; barriers were put up, surmounted by benches, and the place turned into a small amphitheatre. Some American friends of ours offered us room at a window in their hotel which over"looked the scene, but we said with great self-abnegation, “No! bull-fights are bloody and brutal, and as the only English here, we will uphold our testimony "Not at all," said they. against them."

Right pleasant, Master Boswell, must have been General Oglethorpe's dinners, and lovable the giver; and would that we could know more of his personal history! We cannot, however, quite assent to Joseph Warton's assertion that "he was at once a great hero and a great legislator." He was, doubtless, a brave, honorable man, a thorough "fine old English gentleman,' earnestly discharging his duty, to the best of his ability, in the senate and in the field. His supposed Jacobite tendencies excited the animosity of the Whigs, to his exclusion from those professional honors to which he was otherwise justly entitled; and the same reason probably elevated him in the eyes of such admirers as Dr. Johnson. To us, however, he appears in the light of an eminently philanthropic man and good Christian, who adorned the lax and sceptical age in which he lived by an example of genuine piety in faith and practice; and who will ever recall to our minds the ideal of the "chevalier sans peur et sans reproche."

A passage in our narrative may be corrected from the Gentleman's Magazine for November 1787, in an obituary notice of the general's widow, at the age of 77. It would seem from her will that she was wealthy, and that Westbrook Place was still in her possession. The writer says: "To her magnanimity and prudence, on an occasion of much difficulty, it was owing that the evening of their lives was tranquil and pleasant, after a stormy noon.'

• Boswell suggests the blank might be filled up, was told by an apparition."

A SPANISH BULL-FIGHT.

[TO THE EDITOR OF THE SPECTATOR.] SIR, The small town of Amélie-lesBains, in the eastern Pyrenees, close to

No horses are used, and neither the matadores nor the bulls are ever hurt; we have seen them in Barcelona, and a more harmless exhibition could not be witnessed." "Is it possible?" and with some slight misgiving at what promised to be rather a slow affair, we accepted our places. Many things in travelling come to modify one's prievously conceived ideas, but was it possible that our notions of a Spanish bull-fight were all wrong?

The preparations being complete, the in number, with one or two non-profesground was cleared, the matadores, two sional volunteers, put themselves in readiness, and the first bull rushed into the arena. He was small, and appeared frightened out of his senses by the spectacle that met him, the clamor of the people, and the din of the music, and seemed more solicitous for his own safety than anxious for the blood of his antagonists.

Some appearance of wrath was, however, excited in him by the matadores, who did their utmost with red blanket and goads to irritate him, and he was induced to " run " them once or twice, but in a manner so inefficient that it could have resulted in nothing, even if the men had kept their ground. At length, when nothing more could be got out of the animal, he was let out, and another was

driven in, with a similar result, the specta- | as she was remarkably nimble on her feet, tors doing their best to aid the matadores she was rather formidable. One of the in their endeavors to excite the poor volunteer matadores, whilst attempting to panic-stricken beast, until he, too, was elude one of her fiery dashes, fell, and allowed to escape. Three or four more might have been hurt if she had had any followed, all insignificant and without fight; persistence, but the animal was so disnevertheless, the matadores, who need not tracted that she missed her opportunity. have moved an inch for any of them, did Even the courage of this cow, however, what they could to keep up the delusion seemed to depend more on the fear shown of danger by running away and jumping by her antagonists, who fled to the barriup the barriers. In the case of another cades at every assault, than from any disbeast who showed no better "form," a big position of her own. fellow from among the spectators jumped into the arena, and after one or two unsuccessful attempts, succeeded in taking the bull by the horns. Then ensued a somewhat novel wrestling-match, man against bull. The man, despite the frantic struggles of the bull, kept his hold, and the bull, in his endeavors to get loose, finally tumbled over on his side, amidst the vociferous applause of the spectators. On regaining his feet, the animal, finding his exit unopposed, rushed out of the place, as if conscious of his humiliation. This incident was not uninteresting, but it was hardly in accordance with anticipation, and was more enjoyed by the spectators than by the matadores. To show that they also were capable of such a feat, the next bull was secured by one of them, who had a good dance with him, another matadore the while clinging to the animal's tail. Emboldened by these exploits, others among the spectators descended to try their hands, and to win applause apparently so easily obtained, but the matadores, seeing that the credit and dignity of their sport were at stake, refused to allow the interference, and so irritated did they become, that for some minutes there was every probability of a hand-to-hand fight. The public, however, besought their pa tience, and with the aid of the police, who promptly appeared as in France they always do, succeeded in pacifying them, and the entertainment proceeded. The best sport of the legitimate sort was shown by a cow that was wild with mingled rage and fear, and as her horns were long and sharp and well forward on her head, and

Among the remaining beasts was a calf, who looked on the whole proceedings as a lark, and enjoyed a frisk round the arena without once dreaming of trying to stick anybody, and the cow, his mother, who, having been separated from her offspring, was expected to show some exasperation, could not overcome her abject terror, and fled in all directions. Having run through the herd, the best were put through a second time, but with the exception of the wild cow, who pawed the ground, and alone showed any proper feeling, there was nothing to be done with them; and the fight, after a duration of two hours and a half, came to an end, the people dispersing with much satisfaction. The "course was described as better than that of last year, and whether ironically or not, I do not know, as "magnifique." For my own part, it appeared ridiculous, and that such preparations should be made and pilgrimages performed for the sake of such a farce, passes my comprehension. But at any rate, here was a bull-fight without any approach to cruelty, and in which there was nothing that could blunt or degrade the most humane susceptibilities. What proportion of Spanish bull-fights are conducted like this one and those which at Barcelona take place every Sunday, I do not know; but I fancy that those exhibitions of wholesale slaughter of bulls and horses and of imminent danger to men which have colored our idea of the Spanish national character, are not very common, and are somewhat exaggerated. - I am sir, etc., FRED. BURGESS.

Hôtel Pereire, Amélie-les-Bains, October 18th.

NOVEL APPLICATION OF THE ELECTRIC | canon announced his intention of doing his LIGHT. The electric light has already been put to various uses, but the most novel is that contemplated by the Rev. Canon Bagot, rector of Athy, and a well-known agriculturist. The

harvesting this year by the aid of the electric light, but we have not heard whether his experiment has been successfully accomplished.

Fifth Series, } No. 1798.-November 30, 1878.

Volume XXIV.

From Beginning,
Vol. CXXXIX.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY
LITTELL

& GAY, BOSTON.

514

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Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents.

HYMN BY ST. COLUMBA.

I.

SWEET is to me in Uchd Aluinn,*
On a peaked crag to be,
That I might often behold

The face of the boundless sea.

II.

To look on the heaving waves,
While in their Father's ear
Music forever they chant,

Hymning the world's career.

III.

The level and star-bright strand
No sorrow it were to see,
And to hear the wondrous birds,
Sailing on happily.

IV.

The thunder of crowding waves
To hear on the rocky shore.
And down by the church to hear
The sounding surges roar.

V.

To see the swift-flying flocks
Over the watery plain,
And, greatest of wonders all,
The monsters of the main.

VI.

To see the ebb and the flood
In power upon the sea,
And Cul-ri-Erint there, I say,
My secret name would be.

VII.

And grief would come to my heart,
While gazing to her shore,
And all the many ills I've done
I weeping would deplore.

VIII.

The Godhead then would I bless,
Him who doth all things keep,
Heaven with its orders bright untold,
And earth and shore and deep.

IX.

I would search in all the books
That good to my soul would bring,
Now to beloved Heaven I'd kneel,
And now a psalm I'd sing.

X.

Heaven's high one, the holy Chief,
My thoughts would now employ,
Anon, to work without constraint
Would be to me a joy.

XI.

Dulse from the rocks I would pluck,
At times I'd fishing go,
At times I would feed the poor,
Now in the cell bend low.

XII.

Best counsel in the sight of God
To me there hath been given,
From error he shall keep me free,
My king, the Lord of Heaven!
Macmillan's Magazine.

LEITH HILL.

["Hereabouts is a thing remarkable, though but little taken notice of, I mean that goodly prospect from the top of Leith Hill. . . . The like, I think, is not to be found in any part of England, or perhaps Europe besides; and the reason why it is not more observed is partly its lying quite out of any road, and partly its rising so gently, and making so little show till one is got to the very top of it.' -Camden's Britannia.]

Lovely Breast-The rocky heights on the south- Are what old Camden saw, three hundred

west of Iona are called Uchdachan at this day.

↑ Back turned to Ireland- Erin no more!

years ago.

Spectator.

M.

From The Cornhill Magazine.
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

suppers, and were exposed to the same kind of attentions from their inebriated guests as Marlow pays to Miss Hardcastle -it is difficult to believe that in many other respects life was pretty much the same as at the commencement of the present reign. The immense remoteness of such scenes and such ideas from our own experience was combined with the nearness of the two periods to each other in

and practice as unfamiliar to ourselves as those of a Strafford or a Rochester, were

Till recent years the eighteenth century had a bad name among us. The Lake school had raised a prejudice against its literature. Reformers of every shade heaped abuse upon its politics. Moralists condemned its vices. The High Churchman of 1833 blotted it from his calendar. It was generally voted an unspiritual,

THE eighteenth century, so near to us and yet so far from us, possesses this peculiar charm, that its proximity in point of time enables us to realize to ourselves habits of life, and modes of thought, almost as remote from our own as those of the Elizabethan age. What it requires the powerful imagination of the poet or the novelist to do for us in respect of the six-point of time; so much so that opinions teenth century, that every man can do for himself in respect of the eighteenth. We can live as familiarly with the men of aa matter of course with men whom we hundred years ago as if we had known seem to know as well as our grandfathers them ourselves; and yet we are sure that forms a contrast which is perhaps withif by any miracle we could be thrown back out a parallel. among them for a day, their talk, their ideas, their very dress, would seem as strange to us as if they belonged to another world. Johnson at the Mitre Tavern, Cowper at the Olney tea-table, Fox shooting partridges at Holkham, Pitt and Bentham playing chess at Bowood, Dr. Taylor and his sleek black horses, might almost be our own contemporaries. Thirty" unideal," and materialistic age; when years ago the old tavern life of London still survived. Dinner hours in the country were still sufficiently early to admit of chess and cards being introduced in the evening. A few years earlier Lord Althorpe was still shooting partridges with pointers and setters over the ground trodden by Charles Fox. And numerous Doctor Taylors still survived among the clergy, though they had exchanged their bobwigs and coaches for the less clerical costume of cross-barred stiff ties and onehorse gigs. In the pictures we have hastily recalled, there is nothing strange or unfamiliar. Yet make these figures speak, let them once begin to talk of politics, or literature, or religion, or pleasure, or "society," and we find ourselves in a different world. When personal government by the sovereign was a recognized principle in politics; when the authority of Dr. Johnson was universally accepted in literature; when the Church of England was so supremely popular that the clergy Mr. Thackeray, we think, was the first could afford to take their ease and live English man of letters who recognized the pretty much like laymen; when the "qual-rich materials which the eighteenth century ity" still frequented Vauxhall and Rane- afforded for literary treatment. And in lagh; when ladies of title gave convivial "The Virginians " and "Esmond," in the

men had lost their hold on great principles, when faith had given way to sense, and theology to evidences. It was an age of coarse enjoyments, of beef and pudding, and port, and punch, and beer. Mr. Thackeray has remarked how fat people were in the eighteenth century. And it is quite true that in any family portrait-gallery one may trace a marked difference between the faces of the eighteenth and the faces of the seventeenth century. But it was forgotten that the eighteenth century, if not an age of great thoughts, was pre-eminently an age of great deeds. In the eighteenth century constitutional gov ernment was established, and the British empire was created. Political eloquence then reached its highest pitch; and there breathes through the language of British statesmen, in their intercourse with foreign states, that “calm pride,” as Mr. Matthew Arnold has so well observed, which is peculiar to an age of aristocracy.