America, and the Bureau of Longitude had a warrant passed to expel him ignominiously from its bosom.

I would warn those savants who, having early entered the Academy, might be tempted to imitate my example, to expect nothing beyond the satisfaction of their conscience. I warn them, with a knowledge of the case, that gratitude will almost always be found wanting.

The elected Academician, whose merits you have sometimes exalted beyond measure, pretends that you have done no more than justice to him-that you have only fulfilled a duty, and that he therefore owes you no thanks.

Delambre died the 19th of August, 1822. After the necessary delay, they proceeded to fill his place. The situation of perpetual secretary is not one which can long be left vacant. The Academy named a commission to present it with candidates; it was composed of Messrs. de Laplace, Arago, Legendre, Rossel, Prony, and Lacroix. The list presented was composed of the names of Messrs. Biot, Fourier, and Arago. It is not necessary for me to say with what obstinacy I opposed the inscription of my name on this list; I was compelled to give way to the will of my colleagues, but I seized the first opportunity of declaring publicly that I had neither the expectation nor the wish to obtain a single vote; that, moreover, I had on my hands already as much work as I could get through; that in this respect M. Biot was in the same position; and that, in short, I should vote for the nomination of M. Fourier.

It was supposed, but I dare not flatter myself that it was the fact, that my declaration exercised a certain influence on the result of the ballot. The result was as follows: M. Fourier received thirty-eight votes, and M. Biot ten. In a case of this nature each man carefully conceals his vote, in order not to run the risk of future disagreement with him who may be invested with the authority which the Academy gives to the perpetual secretary. I do not know whether I shall be pardoned if I recount an incident which amused the Academy at the time.

M. de Laplace, at the moment of voting, took two plain pieces of paper; his neighbor was guilty of the indiscretion of looking, and saw distinctly that the illustrious geometer wrote the name of Fourier on both of them. After quietly folding them up, M. de Laplace put the papers into his hat, shook it, and said to this same curious neighbor: "You see I have written two papers; I am going to tear up one, I

shall put the other into the urn; I shall thus be myself ignorant for which of the candidates I have voted."

All went on as the celebrated Academician had said, only that every one knew with certainty that his vote had been for Fourier; and "the calculation of probabilities" was in no way necessary for arriving at this result.

After having fulfilled the duties of secretary with much distinction, but not without some feebleness and negligence in consequence of his bad health, Fourier died on the 16th of May, 1830. I declined several times the honor which the Academy appeared willing to do me, in naming me to succeed him. I believed, without false modesty, that I had not the qualities necessary to fill this important place suitably. When thirty-nine out of forty voters had appointed me, it was quite time that I should give in to an opinion so flattering and so plainly expressed. On the 7th of June, 1830, I, therefore, became perpetual secretary of the Academy for the Mathematical Sciences; but, conformably to the plea of an accumulation of offices, which I had used as an argument to support, in November, 1822, the election of M. Fourier, I declared that I should give in my resignation of the Professorship in the Polytechnic School. Neither the solicitations of Marshal Soult, the Minister of War, nor those of the most eminent members of the Academy, could avail in persuading me to renounce this resolution.

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER.

By W. E. AYTOUN.

[1813-1865.]

COME listen to another song,

Should make your heart beat high,

Bring crimson to your forehead,

And the luster to your eye;

It is a song of olden time,

Of days long since gone by,

And of a baron stout and bold

As e'er wore sword on thigh!

Like a brave old Scottish cavalier,
All of the olden time!

[CHARLES JAMES LEVER: Irish novelist; born at Dublin, August 31, 1806. He was educated for the medical profession, studying first at Trinity College and then on the Continent. After taking his degree at Göttingen, he practiced in Ireland, and at Brussels as physician to the British legation, and, on his resignation of that post, became editor of the Dublin University Magazine. Appointed vice consul at Spezia (1857), he was transferred to Triest (1867), and died there, June 1, 1872. Under the pseudonym of Cornelius O'Dowd he wrote articles on miscellaneous subjects for Blackwood's Magazine, and became celebrated as the author of humorous novels, chiefly descriptive of Irish life and character, such as "Harry Lorrequer," "Charles O'Malley," "Jack Hinton," "Tom Burke of Ours," "Sir Jasper Carew," "Con Cregan, "Arthur O'Leary," and "That Boy of Norcott's."]

WHEN we shall have become better acquainted, my worthy reader, there will be little necessity for my insisting upon a fact which, at this early stage of our intimacy, I deem it requisite to mention; namely, that my native modesty and bashfulness are only second to my veracity, and that while the latter quality in a manner compels me to lay an occasional

stress upon my own goodness of heart, generosity, candor, and so forth, I have, notwithstanding, never introduced the subject without a pang, — such a pang as only a sensitive and diffident nature can suffer or comprehend; there now, not another word of preface or apology!

I was born in a little cabin on the borders of Meath and King's County: it stood on a small triangular bit of ground, beside a crossroad; and although the place was surveyed every ten years or so, they were never able to say to which county we belonged, there being just the same number of arguments for one side as for the other-a circumstance, many believed, that decided my father in his original choice of the residence; for while, under the "disputed boundary question," he paid no rates or county cess, he always made a point of voting at both county elections! This may seem to indicate that my parent was of a naturally acute habit; and indeed the way he became possessed of the bit of ground will confirm that impression.

There was nobody of the rank of gentry in the parish, nor even "squireen"; the richest being a farmer, a snug old fellow, one Henry M'Cabe, that had two sons, who were always fighting between themselves which was to have the old man's money. Peter, the elder, doing everything to injure Mat, and Mat never backward in paying off the obligation. At last Mat, tired out in the struggle, resolved he would bear no more. He took leave of his father one night, and next day set off for Dublin, and 'listed in the "Buffs." Three weeks after, he sailed for India; and the old man, overwhelmed by grief, took to his bed, and never arose from it after.

Not that his death was any way sudden, for he lingered on for months longer; Peter always teasing him to make his will, and be revenged on "the dirty spalpeen" that disgraced the family but old Harry as stoutly resisting, and declaring that whatever he owned should be fairly divided between them.

These disputes between them were well known in the neighborhood. Few of the country people passing the house at night hut had overheard the old man's weak reedy voice, and Peter's deep hoarse one, in altercation. When, at last-it was on a Sunday night-all was still and quiet in the house; not a word, not a footstep, could be heard, no more than if it were uninhabited, the neighbors looked knowingly at each other, and wondered if the old man were worse · if he were dead!