on the Chain Pier, or upon the shingles, watching it, and taking the air, as if there were a tide in that element, as well as in the waves, which prevented its extending beyond high-water mark. There you see them, hour after hour, patient as anglers, and all chuckling at the idea that they have got better places, and are swallowing more health and vitality than those who are a few yards behind them, walking on the Steyne or the Parade. Because it is actually built in the sea, the Albion Hotel has obtained a preference over all its competitors. People are content to be kept sleepless from the dissonant braying of the waves during the night, provided they may enjoy the luxuries of being dazzled with their glare, and soaked with their spray in the daytime. Surely the ocean, as an object, has been prodigiously overrated, and Leigh Hunt was well justified in calling it a great monotonous idea; for after the first surprise of its novelty what remains? The visible horizon, to one standing on the shore, is of very limited extent, when compared with a land view from any eminence; and as to the immensity beyond that line, one can imagine it just as well with one's back to the waves, and not be half-blinded in the process of conjuring up a vague idea. The chief beauty and interest of the sea are derived from its concomitants, from association, from the cliffs and headlands that bound it, or from the vessels and human beings sailing on its surface. In a calm, it presents a drowsy unvaried spectacle; and though it may assume a terrible grandeur when it becomes instinct and alive with the storm, its images, and all the thoughts they suggest, are painful and revolting. A classic poet has extolled the delight of hearing the merciless wind raging at sea while you are lying safe in bed upon the shore; but such consolation is cowardly, selfish, and unfeeling. People who find a pleasure in attending executions may be gratified by the howling of the tempest, and the signal-gun of distress, "booming slow with solemn roar" over the sepulchral waters, at that moment perhaps about to entomb their victims; but such feelings, or such apathy, are neither amiable nor enviable. Were there no other objection than the wind, I would not, especially during the winter months, stand a siege upon the Marine Parade against the Southwestern gales; which, not content with now and then smashing in your windows, or bringing a stack of chimneys to clatter about your ears, will sometimes burglariously force open your hall-door, which is hardly to be shut again without summoning the whole posse comitatus. To give some idea of the forces brought up to the assault of your dwelling upon these occasions, it may be recorded, that by experiments made with Lind's anemometer during the storm of November 1824, the impetus of the wind at the embouchures of streets opening to the sea, exceeded twenty-five pounds upon a square foot; so that, in these situations, a moderate-sized house, sixty feet long and forty high, would have to sustain an adventitious force of above seventy thousand pounds. How people can be found to expose themselves to the perils and pelting of such a stunning wind-battery, without the prospect of pay, or even the hope of glory, is a paradox only to be explained by the trite adage of "de Gustibus nil disputandum," a quotation which I make in all innocence of a pun.

If the Sea have been overvalued, the Downs, on the other hand, have been unduly depreciated. In the winter they may be bleak and desolate, the storm-battled heights almost unvisitable, and even the

hollows, dotted as they often are with farms, mournful from the singularly wild and moaning sound of the wind amid the fir-trees, frequently planted for the protection of the buildings; but no season can diminish the beauty and majesty of their undulating outlines, sweeping grandly away, as far as the eye can reach, presenting an unpassable barrier to the waves, and acquiring a sublimity from the reflection that their bold primeval summits, unless they may have been partially modified by the flood, retain the unaltered forms into which they were moulded by the hand of the Creator. Gazing upon these apparently interminable heights, and upon the boundless ocean, neither of which have received any visible impress from man, one seems to stand more immediately in the presence of the Deity, and to be exalted by a perception of the extent and immutability of his magnificent works. To one who comes from inland places of favourite resort, where his footsteps and even his view have been cribbed and cabined in by perpetual walls and inclosures, confining him to the dusty high-road, there is moreover an indescribable charm in this limitless range of verdant turf, over which he may wander in all directions, free as the birds that are singing above his head, or as the "chartered libertine," that is wafting invigorating freshness around him. It gives him a sort of property and possession in the landscape; flatters his sense of power; makes him feel as if he were indeed a lord of the creation. Nor are the flying shadows of the clouds, plunging into the ravines and gorges, lost for a moment, then seen rushing up the opposite heights, or disappearing over the cliffs, as if they had thrown themselves into the sea, without their attractions for a poetical mind, even in the winter. They supplied Ossian with his favourite images, and will recall many of his most beautiful passages. The Downs, it must be confessed, are forlorn, almost fearful and appalling, when their extended surface lies cold, silent,dead, covered with a ghastly winding-sheet of snow; but this is, fortunately, of very rare occurrence.

That man, however, must be either no admirer of Nature, or a very fastidious one, who in spring, summer, or autumn, can gaze upon the scenery of these sweeping hills, and, without reference to the beauty of their forms, can fail to be smitten with the harmonious blending of their tints, at once rich, cool, and mellow, forming a perfect banquet to the eye, and constituting a natural picture that mocks the skill of the most exquisite colourist. Green of every variety, from the deep shining hue of the mangel-wurzel, to the brightest and tenderest pea-colour, rich uninclosed fields of clover reddening into purple, others of flowering tares or potatoes, corn of all descriptions and in every stage, in some places emblazoned with the golden charlock, the most gorgeous of weeds, which in others is thinly scattered, waving to and fro in the light till the whole resembles a shot silk; the velvet Downs, empurpled with wild thyme and sparkling with daisies, or running into little patches of common, enlivened with the "never bloomless furze," all thrown into relief by the lights and shadows of a perpetually varying surface which blends the whole landscape into the softest and most grateful tone, present a combination that may well compensate for the absence of the wood, as the occasional glimpses of the sea form a noble substitute for lakes or rivers. Towards evening the deep shadows of the abrupt glens and hollows assume the appearance of distant groves, and well supply their place; and this is decidedly the time when the Downs wear their most picturesque aspect. Sometimes after the

sun has set, some height or slope, radiant with the yellow charlock, contrasting with the sober hues around it, will suggest the idea that a gleam of solar light has been left behind by mistake; and this is the period when it is delightful to sit and watch the shades gradually deepening, the whole landscape continually changing its tones, and yet never ceasing to harmonize altogether, until every colour is absorbed and melted into darkness. Nor are there wanting pastoral accompaThe beautiful South Down sheep are niments to the evening scene. generally to be seen dotted upon the precipitous slopes, transmitting their bleating voices, or the pleasant tinkling of their bells, sounds which come and go upon the breeze together with rich odours wafted from the intervening fields; while innumerable birds are twittering from the air, the ground, or the surrounding bushes. Some of the detached farms and hamlets, pitched in the sheltered hollows, and not unfrequently half hidden by plantations, impart a pleasant diversity to the view. For the epicure, moreover, the Downs are sure to retain one point of attraction, since they are the autumnal haunt of the wheatear, the English ortolan; while to the curious in ornithological facts it may not be uninteresting to observe the habits of the gulls and the rooks, the feathered marines and land forces of these districts, who sometimes pursue their several occupations in perfect harmony, while at others the latter will combine to repel their white visitants as foreigners and invaders.

If they who have never explored the Downs, or who have only cantered over them with the passing observation that they afforded the finest and most healthy rides imaginable, should think their beauties have been exaggerated, the writer can only say, that having been a permanent resident for some years amid the scenes he has been sketching, he does not by any means feel conscious of having drawn them too much en beau; and that to his eye, thus long accustomed to them, they have lost no tittle of their first attractions. He had intended to offer a few remarks upon the architecture of Brighton, as well as upon its characteristic society and amusements at the different seasons, but his limits warn him to reserve this communication for a future paper.

IMITATED FROM BERNI.

To dine on devils without drinking,
To want a seat when almost sinking,
To pay to-day-receive to-morrow,
To sit at feasts in silent sorrow,
To sweat in winter,-in the boot
To feel the gravel cut one's foot,
Or a cursed flea within the stocking
Chase up and down,- are very shocking:
With one hand dirty, one hand clean,
Or with one slipper to be seen;
To be detain❜d when most in hurry—
Might put Griselda in a flurry:-
But these, and every other bore,
If to the list you add a score,

Are not so bad, upon my life,

As that one scourge-a scolding wife!

M.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE GREEK QUESTION.

THE Treaty of Mediation respecting the affairs of Greece, concluded between Great Britain, France, and Russia, on July 6, 1827, is an act so important as a precedent, and so pregnant with consequences, immediate and future, that, however anxiously and strictly canvassed by statesmen and jurists of the present day, it will scarcely receive less attention from posterity. The separation of the Morea and the Greek Islands from the Turkish Empire, for such practically must be the ultimate result of even modified independence, although, in its effect upon the military strength of the Grand Seignior, perhaps not equal to the disconnection of the Crimea,-involves questions of much higher importance to the great European commonwealth. The latter was a mere cession from a weaker to a stronger power, and, in its immediate consequences, only affected the two parties; but the former event, concluded, as it has been, or will be, by the direct interposition of Great Britain, France, and Russia, and founded upon alleged principles of right and necessity, must deeply affect the international intercourse of all the states of the European continent.

The Treaty of Mediation binds the contracting parties to a direct interference between an independent sovereign and his revolted provinces; and it is, therefore, indispensable to examine the right and necessity of such interference. Our readers will excuse the length of the following quotations from Vattel, as they are those which contain the most complete exposition of the doctrine by which the abstract right of interference can be maintained, and, in our view, embrace the several local considerations by which the question has practically been determined :

"But if the prince, by violating the fundamental laws, gives his subjects a legal right to resist him-if tyranny, becoming insupportable, obliges the nation to rise in their own defence, every foreign power has a right to succour an oppressed people who implore their assistance. The English justly complained of James II. The nobility and the most distinguished patriots having determined to check him in the prosecution of his schemes, which manifestly tended to overthrow the constitution and to destroy the liberties and the religion of the people, applied for assistance to the United Provinces. The authority of the Prince of Orange had doubtless an influence on the deliberations of the StatesGeneral, but it did not lead them to the commission of an act of injustice; for when a people for good reasons take up arms against an oppressor, it is but an act of justice and generosity to assist brave men in the defence of their liberties. Whenever, therefore, matters are carried so far as to produce a civil war, foreign powers may assist that party which appears to them to have justice on their side. He who assists an odious tyrant, he who declares for an unjust and rebellious people, violates his duty. But when the bands of the political society are broken, or at least suspended between the sovereign and his people, the contending parties may be considered two distinct powers; and, since they are both equally independent of all foreign authority, nobody has a right to judge them. Either may be in the right, and each of those who grant their assistance may imagine that he is acting in support of the better cause. It follows then, in virtue of the voluntary law August.-VOL. XXIII. NO. XCII.

of nations, that the two parties may act as having an equal right, and behave to each other accordingly, till the decision of the affair.

"But we ought not to abuse this maxim, and make a handle of it to authorize odious machinations against the internal tranquillity of states. It is a violation of the law of nations to invite those subjects to revolt who actually pay obedience to their sovereign, though they complain of his government.

"The practice of nations is conformable to our maxims. When the German Protestants came to the assistance of the reformed party in France, the court never attempted to treat them otherwise than on the usual footing of enemies in general, and according to the laws of war. France was engaged at the same time in assisting the Netherlands, then in arms against Spain, and expected that her troops should be considered in no other light than as auxiliaries in a regular war. But no power ever fails to complain, as of an atrocious wrong, if any one attempts, by his emissaries, to excite his subjects to revolt."-Vattel, Law of Nations, book II., chap. 4, sec. 56. "When a religion is persecuted in one country, foreign nations who profess it may intercede for their brethren; but this is all they can lawfully do, unless the persecution be carried to an intolerable excess; then, indeed, it becomes a case of manifest tyranny, in opposition to which all nations are allowed to assist an unhappy people (sec. 56). A regard to their own safety, may also authorize them to undertake the defence of the persecuted sufferers. A King of France replied to the ambassadors who solicited him to suffer his subjects of the reformed religion to live in peace, that he was master of his own kingdom.' But the Protestant sovereigns, who saw a general conspiracy of the Catholics obstinately bent on their destruction, were so far masters on their side as to be at liberty to give assistance to a body of men who might strengthen their party, and help them to preserve themselves from the ruin with which they were threatened. All distinctions of states and nations are to be disregarded when there is a question of forming a coalition against a set of madmen, who would exterminate all those that do not implicitly receive their doctrines."-Sec. 62.

We will apply this doctrine to the case of the war between Turkey and the insurgent provinces. It cannot be denied that the "bands of the political society were broken, or at least suspended between the sovereign and his people; and that a state of affairs had therefore arisen in which the contending parties might be considered as two distinct powers; and, since they were both equally independent of all foreign authority, nobody had a right to judge them." The sentence which follows gives a perfect right of assistance to either of the contending parties; that is to say, it was competent to the several nations of Europe, either to assist the Turks in reducing the Greeks to obedience, or to aid the latter in establishing their independence. It is also of importance to remark, that the doctrine laid down by Vattel is not limited, by the previous relations of the powers who may take part with the revolted provinces, to the paramount state which has become a belligerant on the contrary, the right rests upon the "status quo ad præsentem," and the new interests and necessities which have arisen to other parties from the war actually subsisting. In the sixty-second section of the same book and chapter quoted above, Vattel deals with the