the attaching of titles of nobility to the posses- tion to be possible in this age. When the tension of estates of a certain value and fixity of dency of events for centuries past has been to tenure, and the annexing of baronetcies to simi- abridge more and more hereditary power and lar properties, would put all the principal country gentlemen in a position suited to the duties privilege—when political and civil rights have of a knight of the shire. We should not then been constantly extending and diffusing themsee the absurd and mischievous anomaly of an selves among the masses, once excluded from ambitious theorist of no landed property in his their exercise-when even Wellington, the Iron own possession, but backed by the democrats of Duke himself, the embodiment of stern consera manufacturing district, thrust upon the legisla- vatism, has been long ago forced by necessity, to ture as the representative of a large agricultural sanction the Catholic Emancipation bill-when county. We should rather find the knights of the shires forming a compact and most influential body in the imperial parliament, the real representatives of the interests of their constituents, and the main conservative element in the Lower House of the legislature." the government has been constrained to endow a Catholic college in Ireland-when the Jews, the proscribed Jews, are knocking loudly at the doors of Parliament, and demanding (what they must soon obtain) the removal of their civil disabiliWe have now presented, in all its fair propor- ties-amid such influences as these, in the broad tions, this magnificent scheme for the regenera-noonday of the nineteenth century, such a rattion of England. Our readers have before them tling of the dry bones of defunct feudalism is a the mighty Panacea, which the political doctor folly, that defies the reach of superlatives. And of Blackwood, disclaiming "all nostrums of po- to whom is the appeal made? To a majority; litical economy," has devised for the cure of all whose wealth, influence, and numbers, steadily evils that have afflicted, are afflicting, or may af- increasing, have wrought the very changes comflict, the body politic. The crowded and star-plained of; and who are now solicited to undo ving population of the manufacturing districts their own work, surrender what they have acare to be silenced, if not relieved, by the ball quired, and submit once more to the yoke under practice of the Real Estate riflemen. The griev- which they groaned so long. In Æsop's fable, ous taxes and poor rates, which oppress the small the enamored lion was persuaded to part with agriculturists, will be liquidated, by the gradual his claws and teeth, that he might not frighten abolition of all the inconsiderable freeholds and the fair damsel who was to become his bride. fee simple estates, and the conversion of the The real purpose to knock him on the head, was owners thereof into tenants under the shadow of not disclosed until he had become defenceless. overgrown proprietors. While other statesmen But here, with admirable candor, the true object are devising the relief of Ireland, by measures to is avowed in the outset and the great mass of promote and facilitate the alienation of property, the British nation are requested to strip themour projector means to arrest the progress of selves of their franchises, that they may once England towards a similar state of distress by a more fall under the sway of lordly taskmasters. policy exactly opposite. And, when in the ful- Surely, our author's readings of English history ness of time his plan shall have gone into com- must have stopped at the reign of Henry V., or plete operation, the wealth ignobly acquired in at the latest with that of the despotic Harry the the practice of professions, in trade, in manufac- Eighth. He can know nothing of the Stuart dynastures, and the mechanic arts, will probably un- ty-the eventful struggles of the 17th century— dergo a salutary depletion under the swords and the causes which produced them, and the consebayonets of the feudal militia. The purses of quences that have followed. He cannot have rich capitalists will be made to bleed as freely, heard that Cromwell's troopers, and the London as they did in the good old times of the Planta- trainbands, were raised from these same middle genets. Possibly they may be made to disgorge classes in town and country, to which he looks their ill-gotten gains by tooth-drawers and ear- for recruits for the feudal army-that they fought, clippers, so much in vogue in the days of wor-not for prerogative and privilege, but for civil libthy King John: and we may witness the repeti-erty and equal rights—and demolished, on many tion of such diverting scenes, as that in which a field, the squadrons of well born cavaliers, to Front de Bœuf extorts from Isaac the Jew so whom this project is to raise up such illustrious handsome a subsidy, by the aid of threats and tortures. Such were the arts of government and police, under the rule of the feudal monarchs and nobles, so much lauded and lamented by this writer: and we might reasonably expect a return to them, if it were possible to conceive of the revival of such a system. But no sane man can imagine such a resurrec successors. He has gone to sleep with the chroniclers and romancers of the middle ages, and wakes up, like Rip Van Winkle, thinking his nap has lasted but one night. He cannot comprehend the changes that have occurred in the minds of men, and the structure of governments. It is to be hoped some benevolent friend will put into his hands Macaulay or Mackintosh, Hallam or Hume, and impart to him some slight notion of what has happened in this long interval. If he does not belong to that class of people who "never learn any thing, and never forget any thing," he may possibly open his eyes to the absurdity of his speculations: or at least may diversify his labors, by endeavors as useful and promising, to stop the printing-press, prostrate the telegraphs, blow up the steamboats, and run the locomotives off the track. When he has done all this, let him dam up the waters of the Amazon and the Mississippi, and roll them backward to their springs. Then-and not till thenmay he expect to divert the mighty current, whereon float the destinies of England and of the world, from that channel in which, for good or for evil, the hand of Providence has appointed it to flow. "LETTERS AT SEA." The sun hung low, half hidden by the range The soft winds from the shore bore the sweet breath Of the Magnolia's bloom, and in each inlet Its snowy leaves, like fleecy clouds, reposed Upon the waves which on the pebbly shore, Played a low chime as gentle as the tone Of mother's lullaby at summer eve, Sung to her slumbering infant. Farther out The nautilus had spread his little sail, And eyed his own light shadow on the wave. The dolphin's back had caught more radiant hues From the rich light of even, as it wreathed In many a graceful form, and lingered still Around the vessel's side. The drooping sails Hung motionless, save when the rippling breeze Waved the light cordage, and half-raised the curls From the damp brow, fanning it with freshness, And whispering of dells and leafy trees. All was calm, and filled with stilly beauty Which stole the sense away. It was one Of those delicious moments when the mind, Seeming to dwell on naught, feels o'er it come Fair shapes of loveliness ineffable, And on the heart the gentle dew of feeling Doth fall unwittingly, to freshen there The flowers of affection 'till their fragrance Filleth our being. So felt one, who, pale And languid, had been borne upon the deck, That the cool air kissing his cheek, again Might bring to it the rosy flush of health. As murmured the light waves around, their tone Seemed changed by magic and he heard instead The voices of his home :-he wondered then If those beloved ones e'er thought of him— If midst the circle of their happy sports, An eye grew sadder as it missed his smile, Or marked his vacant place. Then came a fear He was forgotten, and his full soul thrilled With a wild, feverish wish for sympathy. Starting, as from a trance, he gazed around, As though he hoped to find the dearly loved L. W. AN APOSTROPHE TO NIAGARA. BY MARGARET JUNKIN. Wonder of wonders! Earth hath naught in all To match thy matchless grandeur! Glorious Blanc Nor dares to claim a rivalry with thee. The Alpine cataracts that headlong leap From heights so dizzy that they fall dispersed In fleecy sheets of foam, are but the play A deaden'd echo to thy ceaseless plunge. That thought withdraws dismayed, serenely stands, Feeble man, In thine o'er mastering presence shrinks, appalled I tremble as I gaze :-and yet my soul Revives again with this indwelling thought;- [Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by John R. Thompson, in the Clerk's Office of the District Courfor the Eastern District of Virginia.] THE CHEVALIER MERLIN. CHAPTER SEVENTH. "The barber is a lank lean man, and noses In every cupboard, like a questing dog, To find some bone of scandal. He seems humble, The Barber. bles have shorn away your curls. Saucy boy, you are grown tall enough to be a brave page." "This fair lady is engrossed, sir," said Sir Ludwig, "and I must speak in her place. Monsieur, I am called Sir Ludwig of Felseck. I stand in a near relation to the countess, your wife. This child is my son; this gentleman is my friend, the Chevalier D'Imhoff." "Pardon me, my excellent husband," the countess added, "if I have been remiss. Sir Ludwig has spoken a part of the truth. He might also have informed you that from the birth of this child I have been a mother to him, and love him with quite a mother's devotion." The eyes of the countess gleamed with a double meaning. The footsteps heard by the Countess Hermi- Merlin replied to these speeches. His confione, as she conversed with Sir Ludwig of Fel-dence in their truth was not sure. He indeed seck, were those of Merlin; but she was pres-saw nothing in a sure light. He had stumbled ently aware that from a different quarter other into a labyrinth, and shadows, deceptions, riddles persons were approaching. In fact as the Nor-surrounded him. Moreover his loss of self-reswegian swept aside the hangings from a more pect had much injured his customary hearty freeprivate entrance, and paused upon the thresh-dom of manner. Sullen, embarrassed, and irriold, a gentleman, leading by the hand a hand-table, he had become a singularly different persome boy, appeared in the ante-chamber. The son from the frank and bold youth who had, so countess, who had for a moment encountered short a time before, left the Swedish shores with her husband's glance, and smiled away the quar- a heart full of honest love, and a spirit inflamed rel which had a little before left her in tears, by gallant hopes. turned to the new comers. She at once, upon "I receive your explanations," he said to Sir catching a view of them, sprang to her feet, and Ludwig. I do not question you. It is unneran to meet them, exclaiming→ cessary that I should assume the duty of giving "He is here, and I knew not of it! Mau- you fair entertainment in this accursed chateau, rice-Maurice"where I am more a stranger than yourself." “Accursed chateau ! did he say accursed cha Her countenance beaming with smiles and tears, she cast her arms about the boy-a pale-teau? Mon Dieu! my husband, this is intolfaced silent child with a thoughtful expression-erable." and covered his cheeks, brow, and lips, with kisses. "Beware, countess," said Sir Ludwig of Fel seck. Merlin said with a sullen courtesy-"I withdraw the rude word, madam." "That is well," replied the countess. At this point in a scene embarrassing to all "Beware! Certainly I shall not beware," parties, a page brought to the Norwegian a sealed the lady answered. "Good D'Imhoff, I salute pacquet. Tearing it open he glanced to the botyou. Take my thanks for so charming a sur-tom of a leaf, and, with a change of counteprise." She addressed these words to the boy's conductor, a noble looking person with an intelligent face somewhat furrowed, and the carriage and air of a man of rank and fashion. nance, left the apartment, saying to the page: "Go before, and conduct the messenger to some place of privacy; then return and let me know where you have bestowed him." The name at the bottom of the leaf was that Sir Ludwig of Felseck then said, with a ges-of Captain Piper. Enclosed were letters, sevture toward the Norwegian: eral months old, from Mariana Sture and the "Countess, be conscious of the presence of good senator, directed to the camp of the king this gentleman, who as master of the chateau, of Sweden. Captain Piper had written briefly is doubtless entitled to an explanation which he is too courteous to ask." as follows: 66 Sir,-In passing I have learned enough to be The countess did not answer, but ran on in assured that you delay in this neighbourhood. I endearing talk to the boy. am en route for Sweden, and send to you certain letters, the answers whereunto will be no burthen assiduous servantto your you "Maurice-Maurice-have you indeed come back to me? God bless you, dear child: are bronzed like a Bohemian, and these misera VOL. XV-60 GUSTAVUS PIPER." The reading of these words brought a rush of Piper had left Sweden within a month after the blood to the visage of the unhappy Norwegian. departure of the Norwegian himself; he had Shame and grief unmanned him; he feared to joined General Lewenhaupt, and would have open the accompanying letters. When at last followed with him on the course of King Charles, he overcame his nervous hesitation, and read but a Polish count had run him through with a page after page of sweet, hopeful, and confiding rapier at Wilna, in which town he had remained utterances, warm and eloquent from the pure disabled by his wound. He was now returning, heart of Mariana, his eyes became full of tears, still disabled, to Sweden. The incidental quarand he sobbed heavily. rel had spoiled his Russian campaign. As for Then he heard a step near at hand, and a kind- his present whereabout, he delayed in a village ly voice said at the same moment: 66 three leagues distant, awaiting the return of his messenger from the Chateau d'Amour. When this information had been extracted from Eugenius Flavel, with less difficulty than You suspect me, and rebuke me, sir," said might have been expected from the taciturnity the girl, interpreting his silence. "Not so, maiden," he at length answered. "You have seemed to me dignified by sorrow, and of a spirit too grave for wanton arts. I have no confidence to give you, but also no rebuke." "When tears are in the eyes of a child or a woman," said Giselle, "they are nothing. But when a strong man weeps, we wonder and are awed. But forgive me; I but yielded to an interest which your singular grief excited. You, naturally enough, withhold your confidence from me, and I leave you.” which was usual with him in the presence of his master, Merlin said in conclusion: "Say to Captain Piper that I thank him for his civility in despatching this message to me; and that I will at another time, by another hand, make answer to certain papers which he has sent to me. Receive this reward for your pains, and return at once to your master.” Receiving with obsequious gratitude the gift of the Norwegian, the valet departed as he had come, under the guidance of the page. Let us follow him, to learn how he freighted himself with news. Conducted by the page, he stole on "Not so, girl," Merlin replied. "Tarry: you with the silent step of a cat, looking closely about are honest, I think, where all else is deception. him, and venturing upon questions to the boy. I have much to learn. I wander among mists. To these the latter answered with so little point You perhaps will explain many things to me." that Flavel extracted nothing; the lad was eviGiselle mused in silence. She presently said: dently one of those light spirits that live unob"I may explain a part-perhaps enough to servant, and are not reflective enough to be inserve you. But now, or before ample reflection, quisitive or to satisfy the inquisitive. But as the I will not trust myself to speak. Moreover we two proceeded, the wise countenance of Wilmay be interrupted. After nightfall I will meet helm the steward became visible, and this appayou in the Astrologer's tower-in that turret-rition gave the valet better hopes. The steward chamber which you have at times used for your coming forward spoke with a patronizing civility meditations. Some one approaches. A brave to the page, and, as desirous as Flavel himself man may command fortune, and should not despair. Leave tears to the weak. Adieu." of a conference which offered an opportunity of exhibiting his rhetorical skill, or at least of letting escape those floods of small talk which were distressing to him in their pent-up condition, took charge of that worthy person, and escorted him As Giselle disappeared, the page, who had been sent to the bearer of the pacquet, returned to say that he had accomplished his errand. He then conducted the Norwegian to the same tur- with ceremonious politeness to his own quiet ret-chamber which the girl had selected for the promised interview. In this room, awaiting his coming with a fixed stoop in the shoulders, and looks downcast, but watchful in their humility, Merlin found the valet of Captain Piper, Eugenius Flavel. sanctuary. Arrived there he made the valet welcome, and introduced him by word and example to a stoup of wine. Master Flavel drank warily, pleading the unseasonable morning hour. "It is a popular fallacy, sir," said the steward, "which rules our appetites by the index of a "Master Flavel," he said with composure, "I clock, which is but unreflecting machinery. That remember a scene by lake Vettern, and recog-hour which finds a man thirsty is the hour for his nise you without difficulty. I hold in my hand potation." the despatches from Captain Piper. Where now "How charmingly, Monsieur, your life must is that gentleman? When came he from Swe-pass," said the valet looking around him. den? Why does he return?" "It has its dignities, and its enjoyments-per The valet answered these questions. Captain haps not altogether unmerited—but also its trou bles," Wilhelm responded with a sigh. Then, "You had the honour," he observed, "to know the great Ritter, Prince Merlin, who is just now our master?" "Yes," replied Flavel. "Then," continued the steward, "you had the honour to know a very distinguished personage, a nobleman illustrious at home, in-surely those northern countries possess names with which I can never become familiar." Yes," replied Flavel. “Hum,”—muttered the steward, "what was that yes for?" Then he proceeded—“ A nobleman, I say, illustrious for his virtues and extensive possessions, to make no mention of a venerable ancestry. This distinguished Brightness you have had the honour to serve― e-eh?" "Yes, Monsieur," said Flavel," and I could acquaint you with some particulars concerning my lord." Master Flavel, with eyes and hands uplifted, expressed his amazement. "Poor gentleman!" he murmured audibly; to be exposed to this frosty atmosphere in such a defenceless condition!" "You mistake." said the steward. "It was in sultry summer weather." 66 66 Now, My dear Monsieur," gently exclaimed Master Flavel, "now there can be no question but that you are mistaken. To within a fortnight past, my lord the illustrious Prince Merlin, has been known to be engaged in a desperate campaign against the rebels of the northern islands, who refused to supply my lord's purveyors with' tribute-honey for my lord's mead. How then could my lord have appeared here in summer ?” Sir," said the steward with a dignity becoming in such a functionary when outraged by extreme contradiction, "permit me to entertain you with a brief narrative. In the latter days of the last July my lord came to this region. It pleased him, riding alone, as I had the honour to signify to you, in his armour, ritterliche, to dismount and make his bath in a stream. sir, there came to him, through the woodlands, certain facetious ladies, the excellent mistress of this chateau at their head; and, in their mirth, these ladies did bear off the clothing and other equipment of my lord. It was whilst in pursuit of his property that I beheld, with my own eyes, his approach, and that condition, near to natural nakedness, of which I spoke, and as to which you did me the respect to controvert me. this chateau I escorted my lord. I witnessed within ten days thereafter a nuptial ceremony, a "Pardon me," interrupted Master Flavel; "it marriage of my lord to the countess my miswas rather with the brilliant escort of two hun-tress-a marriage whereof I must not speak undred armed men, and with his banner displayed, derstandingly—and since that time, now three that my lord travelled. You are certainly mis- months agone, it has been my duty, as my pleataken on that point." sure, to attend daily upon the presence of my lord, the Ritter, his Brightness Prince Merlin—a plain tale-a plain tale, sir. I am gratified to perceive that I have been perspicuous enough to put to flight those opposite suppositions of your ignorance. I am never mistaken, sir—never.” "You are a polite person, and I drink to your health," said the triumphant steward whose vanity whispered that his adroitness had led the stranger to the verge of developments. "And now, my dear sir, proceed." Flavel manifested no perception of the fact that he was expected to enter upon a narrative. "When his Brightness left his regretting country," continued the steward, "and came, led by some vow, doubtless, riding like a private per son" "Mistaken!" retorted the steward. "Sir, that observation would alone prove you a stranger to this region. I pique myself, sir, and others have not been wanting in complimentary remark, upon the fidelity of my observation and the accuracy of my statements." "But, Monsieur," persevered the valet, "you have been misinformed by some one disposed to practise upon your confiding disposition. My lord positively journeyed with such an escort as I have mentioned. You have been practised upon." The steward became ruddy with passion. "Practised upon! Holy St. Julian, saint of travellers! Am I unable to behold with my own eyes? His Brightness not only came without the escort you speak of, but when I went out to meet him, he was well-nigh in a condition of natural nakedness." To |