beauty is wooing him, with head thrown back and hands clasping his in the abandon of the revel. He holds in his raised hand a cup of wine. His dark and beautiful face is but slightly flushed. He is too much of an artist to be overcome by the wild debauch. He is looking forward dreamily at the group before him, where a poet is reading his verses amid a garland of girls, and further away a group of Oriental dancers are twined in the mazy measures of the East. At the extreme right a trio of gamblers are throwing dice. A rich warm light is poured over the scene, heightening every salient point and softening all the shadows. A great city lies basking in the distance and doves are making love in the high arches of the portico. It is as fine a picture as was ever drawn of the Pride of Life-the joy of mere material existence. It is the debauch of a poet and a gentleman-a material paradise beyond the reach of the richest of stock-brokers. There are in the picture the representatives of the lower forms of pleasure. In the background on the right there are men who are grossly drunk. The young gambler in the foreground who is winning the old one's money, to his dismay and his doxy's fury, is as coarse a blackleg as you could find in Nachez-under-theHill. Even the dancers, in whose lithe limbs the very poetry of living is seen, are animals doing their day's work in an artistic way. But to the Prodigal himself, as to the artist and the spectator, the scene is the representation of all that the worship of the senses can give of beauty and of magnificence to life. In the severe and ascetic drawings to the right and left of this revel of color and form, you see what a life leads to which is devoted to the mere gratification of the senses, to the mere cultivation of the artistic, and the neglect of the moral faculties. In the one, the Prodigal is herding swine under a cloudy sky full of carrion-birds. In the other he is returning home in his rags and remorse. Because he was unmindful, in his pride of youth, of something better than art and pleasure, he was brought down to the companionship of beasts. But the germ of good that lay in his sense of art made repentance possible, and acceptation by the Father."

mere

What Art Suffered from the Communists.—A list of the buildings ravaged in the course of the late disastrous events in Paris, as present opportunities permit us to make it, will be the fittest record we can give of the catastrophe. It is fortunate that the greater portion of the most precious contents of the Louvre, including the works of Raphael, Da Vinci, Titian, Mantegna, P. Veronese, Correggio, Murillo, Rubens, Claude, Vandyck, and the Dutch masters, were removed to Brest, out of the way of enemies' shot, shell, and fire. The pictures by later French artists were retained in Paris. If the pictures in the Luxembourg followed those of the Old Masters, they are safe. Of buildings destroyed and injured there are accounts of the under-named. The great columns in front of the Madeleine are much damaged; likewise the statues in the Place de la Concorde, some of which are described as lying on the ground headless and armless. The greater part of the Tuileries is gone, and the rest of that superb range of palaces is woefully injured. The Hôtel de Ville is burnt to a mere shell; also a portion of the Palais Royal. Of the Louvre building, thanks to General

Douai, not much has been injured. The Palais de Justice appears not to have suffered, as was at first reported; nor has the Sainte Chapelle. The Min istry of Finance is gone, with the Palais d'Orsay. The Church of St. Sulpice is destroyed. The Sorbonne Library, of 80,000 volumes, and that of the Louvre, are burnt. The Hospital of the Val de Grâce is destroyed; also the Theatres Lyrique and of the Châtelet; a tower of the Courmayeur is lost to us, with the turrets of the Church of St. Eustache, and the Grenier d'Abondance. Great damage has been done to the works in the manufactory of the Gobelins. Not a house is intact in the Rue de Rivoli; the greater portion of the Quartier St. Germain and the whole of the Rue de Bac are in ashes; the Rue Royale is a heap of débris.

Some Artists' Blunders.-Tintoretto, an Italian painter, in a picture of the children of Israel gathering manna, has taken the precaution to arm them with the modern invention of guns. Cigoli painted the aged Simeon at the circumcision of the infant Saviour; and, as aged men in these days wear spectacles, the artist has shown his sagacity by placing them on Simeon's nose. In a picture by Verrio of Christ healing the sick, the lookerson are represented standing with periwigs on their heads. To match, or rather to exceed this ludicrons representation, Dürer has painted the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden

by an angel in a dress fashionably trimmed with flounces. The same painter, in his scene of Peter denying Christ, represents a Roman soldier very comfortably smoking a pipe of tobacco. A Dutch painter, in a picture of the wise men worshipping the Holy Child, has drawn one of them in a large white surplice and in boots and spurs, and he is in the act of presenting to the Child a model of a Dutch man-of-war. In a Dutch picture of Abraham offering up his son, instead of the patriarch's "stretching forth his hand and taking the knife,” as the Scriptures inform us, he is represented as using a more effectual and modern instrument; he is holding to Isaac's head a blunderbuss. Berlin represents in a picture the Virgin and Child listening to a violin; and in another picture he has drawn King David playing the harp at the marriage of Christ with St. Catherine. A French artist has drawn with true French taste the Lord's Supper, with the table ornamented with tumblers filled with cigar-lighters; and, as if to crown the list of these absurd and ludicrous anachronisms, the Garden of Eden has been drawn with Adam and Eve in all their primeval simplicity and virtue, while near them, in full costume, is seen a hunter with a gun, shooting ducks.

The Arts and the Puritans.-Charles the First is one of the very few English, monarchs to whom the arts may be considered as under an obligation. The price of pictures, we are told, rose to double their value in his reign, in consequence of the competition between Charles and Philip the Fourth of Spain, another royal collector. Through the agency of Rubens, the celebrated cartoons of Raffaelle were transferred from Flanders to England; while, at the cost of £18,000, Charles purchased the entire cabinet of the Duke of Mantua, considered the finest in Europe. In the palace of Whitehall alone--and it must not be forgotten that the King had eighteen other palaces-were

twenty-eight pictures by Titian, eleven by Correggio, sixteen by Julio Romano, nine by Raffaelle, four by Guido, and seven by Parmegiano, besides many exquisite works by Rubens and Vandyke. To the blind zeal of a puritanical Parliament we owe the dispersion of this glorious collection. Such pictures and statues as they chose to style superstitious were destroyed; the rest were ordered to be sold. The inventory, which was intrusted to the most ignorant appraisers, took a year in drawing up, and the collection three years in selling. Thus, to the disgrace of civilization, were dispersed, mutilated, or destroyed, the splendid effects, the gems and antiquities, the costly statue galleries, the unique cabinet of Charles the First, the delight of his leisure hours, and the envy of Europe.

The Roman Catacombs.-In the Contemporary Review for May, Dr. Mommsen gives a notice of "the Catacombs," pointing out that they are neither old quarries nor secret works of the early Christians, nor against the law. Burial clubs were especially favored at Rome, and it was merely necessary for persons favorable to Christianity to obtain possession of the ground above. The oldest is the one now attributed (but not conclusively) to Domitilla. If hers, then a granddaughter of Vespasian founded a Christian cemetery in Rome before the year 95 of our era. The catacomb of Callistus, founded about 200, was the burial place of the Roman bishops during the greater part of the third century, the epitaphs being still all in Greek, showing who formed the preponderating element in the church; and in fact the early Latin fathers are all of Carthage, not of Rome. The earliest burials, like those of the heathen, had taken place in private ground. Even the Jewish burial places, at least in their own land, were but family graves. But the new idea of Christian union led to the united burial grounds, and these became places of devotion for the community; the grave became a cemetery, the cemetery a church. This system of burial ended with the siege of Rome by Alaric in

410.

The Ruins of Fort Sumter.-At Room No. 45, Trinity Building, there is on exhibition a large picture about six feet by five, painted by Mr. Charles Gulager, a clerk in the office of the Adjutant General. This picture is called "The Ruins of Fort Sumter," and shows the battered old fort as it appeared after its bombardment and capture by the United States forces in 1864. The prospect is from the seaward side, looking in toward Charleston from the old anchorage of the blockading fleet. To the left is Sullivan's Island and several vessels of the fleet; to the right is a distant perspective of the long, low coast line; in the foreground is a waste of surging waters showing black under the clouds of a rising storm; and conspicuously in the centre rise the picturesque and moss-grown ruins of the famous old structure. The picture is well conceived and well executed, and will soon possess a definite historic value now that Fort Sumter is to be rebuilt.

Amateur art is not usually of a character to render it grateful to the critic, but Mr. Gulager is one of those gentlemen we occasionally meet in whom the artistic faculty and instincts have triumphed over the routine of office and the dull practicalities of

business life.

The Cavour Monument.-Ernst Förster contributes to the supplement of the Allgemeine Zeitung for May 14th a very interesting account of the Cavour monument, nearly completed by the sculptor Dupré. It is a remarkable fact that Signor Dupré had been by personal prepossession a partisan of the grand-ducal regime, and an opponent of Italian unity. The composition of his monument is as follows: a square lower pedestal, with semicircular projections on two of its faces, and a polygonal upper pedestal surmounted by a sculptured group of Italy-an emblematical female figure-raised from the ground by Cavour. The lower pedestal is adorned with reliefs, scutcheons, and inscription, and sustains two colossal groups on the sides which have the projecting bay, and two colossal single figures on the plain sides. Of the groups, one is an allegory of "Politics," the other of "Independence;" the single figures are half reclining, and represent, one, "Strength," and the other "Duty."

Etruscan Antiquities.-A new museum was founded a short time ago in Florence for the reception of Etruscan antiquities, which until quite lately were not collected in any proper building specially devoted to the purpose, but were stowed away in nooks and passages of the Uffizii, where they were concealed from the public, rather than exposed to the public view. Many of the most precious Etruscan antiquities were being constantly carried out of the country until the Marchese Carlo Strozzi and Signor Gamurrini, with the assistance of the Marchese Gian Carlo Conestabile, determined to provide a proper receptacle for them. The new inuseum which has been added to the Egyptian museum was inaugurated in March, in the presence of the Minister of Public Instruction, Cesare Correnti, and speeches were delivered by Prof. Gennarrelli and Signor Gamurrini, who was elected Keeper of the Etruscan Antiquities.

VARIETIES.

The Serpent's Sagacity.-Toward the middle of the day, while I was travelling a little in advance of the party, I perceived, by the side of the road, a boa coiled up and apparently asleep. Our Indians were anxious to kill him, but I forbade their doing so. As the ground was open, and free from rocks and bushes, I was desirous of testing the sagacity of this serpent, of which I had heard so much, and ascertain how he would proceed to extricate himself from his perilous position. At first he remained perfectly motionless, as if deliberating upon his course of action. Soon, however, he commenced crawling away backwards, his threatening head protecting his retreat. His neck, during the execution of this manœuvre, was much contracted, so that in case of danger he could dart it forward with the more force. Our dog endeavored to attack him at some unguarded point, but he could not evade the vigilant eye of the reptile, who throughout his retreat preserved his defensive attitude. Having reached the foot of a tree he slipped his tail into a hole in the ground, into which his body gradually glided, finally followed by his head, which so long as it was visible main

tained its attitude of menace.- Travels in Central America. From the French of the Chevalier Arthur Morelet.

Work During Sleep.-Those cases in which the brain is hard at work during sleep, instead of being totally oblivious of everything, may be called either dreaming or sonnambulism, according to the mode in which the activity displays itself. Many

of them are full of interest.

Some men have done really hard mental work while asleep. Condorcet finished a train of calculations in his sleep which had much puzzled him during the day. In 1856 a collegian noticed the peculiarities of a fellow-student, who was rather stupid than otherwise during his waking hours, but who got through some excellent work in geometry and algebra during sleep. Condcillack and Franklin both worked correctly during some of their sleeping hours.

The work done partakes in many cases more of the nature of imaginative composition than of scientific calculation. Thus, a stanza of excellent verse is in print, which Sir John Herschel is said to have composed while asleep, and to have recollected when he awoke. Goethe often set down on paper, during the day, thoughts and ideas which had presented themselves to him during sleep on the preceding night. A gentleman one night dreamed that he was playing an entirely new game of cards with three friends; when he awoke the structure and rules of the new game, as created in the dream, came one by one into his memory, and he found them so ingenious that he afterward frequently played the game. Coleridge is said to have composed his fragment of "Kubla Khan" during sleep. He had one evening been reading Purchas' Pilgrim; some of the romantic incidents struck his fancy; he went to sleep, and his busy brain composed "Kubla Khan,"

When he awoke in the morning, he wrote out what his mind had invented in sleep, until interrupted by a visitor, with whom he conversed for an hour on business matters; but, alas! he could never again recall the thread of the

story, and thus "Kubla Khan" remains a frag

ment.

Dr. Good mentions the case of a gentleman who in his sleep composed an ode in six stanzas, and set it to music. Tartini, the celebrated Italian violinist, one night dreamed that the devil appeared to him, challenged him to a trial of skill on the fiddle, and played a piece wonderful for its beauty and difficulty; when Tartini woke, he could not remenber the exact notes, but he could reproduce the general character of the music, which he did in a composition ever since known as the "Devil's Sonata." Lord Thurlow, when a youth at college, found himself, one evening, unable to finish a piece of Latin composition which he had undertaken; he went to bed full of the subject, fell asleep, finished his Latin in his sleep, remembered it next morning, and was complimented on the felicitous form which it presented.

All the Year Round.

The Culture of the Silkworm in Japan.— The life of a silkworm, as a worm-that is, from its leaving the egg to forming the cocoon-lasts from forty to fifty days; during that time it has four periods of rest, known, nobody knows why, as the lion's, the falcon's, the boat's and the garden rest, when, for the space of from four to seven days, the worm stops feeding, and casts its

skin. Hatching-time varies according to the season, coming sometimes as early as the 20th of April, sometimes as late as the 5th of May. As soon as the temperature is favorable, and the early leaves of the mulberry appear, the egg-cards, which have been hanging in paper-bags from the ceiling, are taken out, and suspended in a shady spot in the open air. The eggs darken, and during the night the little black worms emerge from them. The first-comers are either thrown away or left unnoticed until their numbers are swelled suffi

ciently, when they are brushed or shaken off the cards into small paper-covered wooden boxes. Some breeders give them nothing to eat at this early stage; others chop up the buds of the Yotsume mulberry, and scatter them over the worms, after they have been sprinkled with sifted bran, to prevent them rolling themselves together in hard little balls. After a day or two, the silkworms are removed to straw mats covered with a layer of rice-husks; and as they increase in size, and require more mats, the latter are placed upon small tables, standing on legs six inches high, which are placed one upon another, to save room. After the second or third rest, the worms are put into bamboo trays, and these stowed away upon wallshelves, one above the other; care being taken to leave sufficient space between the top shelf and the roof to allow the noxious effluvia to ascend, without injuring the health of the worm, which it is likely to do, where such precaution is not ob

served.

Those who believe in the virtue of cleanliness are particular to take away all refuse; this is generally done by removing the worms with chopsticks; but a much better plan is to place nets, stretched on small frames, over the worms, and cover them with fresh leaves, to which the silkworms quickly climb, rendering their transference to clean trays an easy matter. At first, the mulberry leaves are chopped up fine, and doled out often in small quantities; but as the worms increase in size the food increases in coarseness, until, at last, whole branches are strewn over the trays. When the creatures are dull and heavy, a little saké and water is sprinkled over their food to stimulate their appetites. This is unnecessary just before the last rest, for then they eat greedily, and if not well supplied, take their revenge by After the garden rest they making light cocoons. cease feeding, shed their skin, and four or five When days after that begin to form the cocoon. this important time is at hand, the "mabushi" is made by arching split bamboos lengthways over the trays, and spreading twigs of rape, pine, or rice straw over the arches, until a thick bed is formed. When a worm deserts its leaf to go wandering about the border of its tray, it is a sure sign it is ready to spin; those ready, but rambling, are detected by the transparent paleness fingers of young girls to the mabushi, which, as of their skin. All such are transferred by the soon as spinning has fairly set in, is covered with a mat and put upon a shelf for eight or ten days, by which time the twigs will be so firmly connected by the web spun by the worms, that the whole bed may be taken from the tray, doubled up, and hung from the ceiling-to remain there until those concerned have leisure to remove the cocoons. — Chambers's Journal.

not

English Census.-The general results of the English census of 1871 are as follows. The total population of England and Wales is 22,700,000, and of Ireland 5,400,000. Since the census of 1861 England and Wales have gained 2,700,000, while Ireland has lost nearly 400,000.

Loss of Life by Earthquakes.--Not long ago 60,000 people, it was estimated, were buried by the earthquake which destroyed Mendoza; 40,000 perished at Quito in 1797; 60,000 at Lisbon in 1755; 74,000 at Messina in 1692; 300,000 by two earthquakes at Antioch in the sixth and seventh centuries; 120,000 in Syria in the first century, and 50,000 in the same country upon another occasion; a catastrophe in Mexico carried off 10,000 persons; and one in Calabria, 40,000. Women and Politics.-We return therefore once more to the question, whether it is really desirable that women should be invited to take an

active share in politics, and be exposed to the various influences of party agitation. The answer, we should say, is to be found by considering the actual condition and prospects of society. Women are at present in great measure excluded from active life. Moreover, so far as we can see, they always will be so. Mr. Mill sometimes speaks almost as if, in the change which is taking place from "status to "contract," it will be merely a question of voluntary contract whether a human being should be a man or a woman. To our minds, the line of demarcation is likely to be permanent, and rests upon distinctions so wide and deep that it is a primâ facie objection to any political theory that it fails to take them into account. We are unable to conceive any state of things as at all likely to exist for many generations to come in which women should not, on the whole, and as a general rule, find their main employment in the family, and men in active life. One advantage is, that at present there is a certain division of labor; and that women exercise a

great and healthy influence, precisely because they are elevated above much of the wearying and often degrading details of practical life. It is no small thing that half the human race should habitually take a purer and a more sentimental view of life than those who have to do the dirty work. It is well that women should not go through the process which comes to men, of being made coarse and vulgar in the struggle of hard business details. The reaction not merely between particular individuals, but between the two great divisions of humanity, is on the whole healthy, and tends to keep the atmosphere of society purer than it would otherwise be. We do not mean that the minds of women should not be more cultivated, and that more careers should not be opened for them than at present. On the contrary, it is a matter of primary importance that their education should be improved, and that fresh employments should be opened to them, though always with a due regard to the maintenance of certain essential safeguards to morality. It is their strong sense the importance of this improvement which goes far to excuse even the extreme eccentricities of the advocates of women's rights. But when they forget the opposite side of the question, when they try to make men and women as like each other as possible, and to break down all distinct

of

ions, and to assume that the family can take care of itself, we look upon them with suspicion. The question of women's votes is, from this point of view, comparatively a small matter, except as indicating certain tendencies. Even if the franchise is conceded, the same reasons which make us dislike the change in many ways lead us to think that its practical importance may perhaps be small. It would seem, however, that the line between voting corresponds pretty fairly to that distinction between the proper functions of the two sexes which we have endeavored to indicate, and we should so far be sorry to see it broken down. is the entire neglect of these considerations, and the implied assumption that they are nothing but sentimentality, which repels us in the orators on the other side. After all, even a slight and indirect injury to the traditions which guard feminine purity may be of incomparably more importance than the refusal or concession of a vote. -Satur

day Review.

It

The Real Objection to Female Suffrage.--But our contention is this,-that admitting all this, and much more-that, for example, in refusing women the suffrage we may be wilfully diminishing our chances of evolving a political genius-the true point of the difficulty is not yet touched, that point being the impossibility of combining female suffrage with the safety of a free State. The first necessity of free government is, that the majority shall have power to govern; that it shall not be liable, in the last resort, to be summarily set at nought. If it can be so set at nought, whether by soldiers, or rioters, or by individual genius, then government itself, not this or that ruler, but government, is of necessity destroyed. And under female suffrage this might always happen. Suppose, for instance, that the women of England, having votes and being, as they are, in the majority, were to decree, as they almost infallibly would decree, that the sale of liquor should cease, and that, as is quite possible also, the majority of rough men rose in armed insurrection against the Act. Clearly the Legislature, though with a majority at its back, would have to yield ignominiously, and government by the majority, that is, the only form of free government which the world has as yet been able to devise, would be summarily brought to an end. Force, if not the foundation of government, is at least an indispensable element in it, and force and opinion would be permanently divided, or rather would labor under a permanent possibility of division. We cannot imagine where the answer to this argument is to be found, or how statesmen who understand politics, and know that on at least one branch of them, restrictive legislation, men and women are in hopeless disaccord, can resolve to face a danger which, if it is as real as we believe it to be, would dissolve society every four or five years, that is, would frustrate all the ends for which States are kept up and the electoral privilege is conceded.-The Spectator.

Improving Florence.-The city of Florence seems to be undergoing a process of "improvement" and transformation, not at all arrested by any prospective results of a removal of the seat of government. A correspondent of the Allgemeine Zeitung (April 25) speaks with en

thusiasm of the trees already flourishing on the piazza in front of San Spirito; of preparations for similar planting in front of San Marco, Santa Maria Novella, and Santa Croce, of a "magnificent boulevard, lined with stately dwelling-houses and charming gardens," soon completely to encircle the city on the north side; and of a grand new road from the Porta Romana over the heights of San Miniato, to command all the finest views of the southern side. Lovers of Florence, as she was, will have more sympathy with this writer when he goes on to protest, on grounds alike of public utility and of imperial and civic dignity, against the proposed imposition of a regular onefranc fee upon visitors to the public monuments and museums. The convent of St. Mark and the museum of the Bargello have already been made accessible on these terms, and it is now proposed similarly to tax the entrance of the Pittid Uffijz galleries-a principle new in the great museums of Italy till it was adopted the other day ly the "Museo Nazionale" of Naples.

To

Up in a Balloon. -For a long time the most famous ascent in aërostatic annals was that of Gay Lussac, who, in September, 1804, started from Paris and reached the height of 23,000 feet. lighten the balloon, he threw overboard every article he could possibly dispense with; a common deal chair went with the rest, and fell into a hedge close to a girl who was tending some sheep. As the sky at the time was clear and the balloon invisible, some of the country folk held that it must have come straight from Paradise, and cried a "miracle;" others refused to think that "the workmen above could be such muffs," for the chair was roughly made; but the miracle-mongers would no doubt have carried the question had not a timely account of Lussac's voyage appeared in the papers.

A Stone-Dressing Machine.-This machine, which is an American invention, consists of a simple arrangement by which a block of stone can be made to travel beneath a transverse bar, carrying either a series of chisels or a single knife. To this bar a kind of oscillatory motion is imparted by a crank axle, so that the action of a workman's hand and mallet is very exactly imitated, but with a speed and force that no workman can attain. Certain varieties of granite that have hitherto had no market value on account of their extreme hardness, the cost of dressing having exceeded the worth of the material, can be worked by the machine with the utmost facility. The ordinary process is first to subject the rough stone to the action of a row of chisels, separated by interspaces, so that the surface is grooved, and then to replace the chisels by a continuous blade, that reduces the ground surface to one that is uniformly level.

Luminous Fungi.—Once on an excursion (near

Port Jackson) returning at dark through the woods, we were attracted by a number of very luminous fungi, which shed a broad glare of light

among the grass and decayed leaves. This light was very white, like ghastly moonlight, and so strong that I could see the time on my watch. I gathered some, and found them to be agarics (mushrooms) some inches in diameter, with a flattish, wavy, pale slate-colored or whitish cup, very numerous thickly-set decurrent gills, and a

This

Lord Brougham's Opinion of the French.It has always been a marvel to me that so clever and sagacious a man as Talleyrand (fixing Napoleon's residence at Elba) should not have foreseen the probable result of this arrangement. Perhaps he yielded from a conviction that the soldier-like attachment to their chief might have so far influenced the French armies, then near Fontainebleau and in the provinces of the Loire, that any harshness in the treatment of Bonaparte might have raised a flame it would have been difficult to extinguish. But there was one result of the abdication which created unbounded astonishmentthe marvellous rapidity in the change of public opinion in France-that the man who but a few short weeks before had apparently possessed the have been all at once forgotten; that he should entire affections of the nation he ruled over should have been quietly, and almost without observation, allowed to be escorted by foreign officers to the place of embarkation in the south; disappearing, which he had so long and so recently exercised unnoticed and unregretted, from the soil over the most absolute and undisputed dominion. conduct is a painful illustration of the character of Frenchmen, and excites reflections one has no Mackintosh felt this pleasure in dwelling on. acutely, and in discussing with me the events I have here referred to, made use of expressions Frenchmen, whom, he said, "posterity would very different from the words he once applied to celebrate for patriotic heroism, as the citizens by whose efforts the fabric of despotism fell to the ground." It is not surprising that the author of the "Vindicia Gallica" should have felt this deeply. I remember his telling me that among the few who had not altogether forgotten Napoleon were some who discussed the question whether he ought not to have killed himself; while others declared they always believed that he was too great a coward to play the Roman part; and Mackintosh added that Napoleon, before he left Fontainebleau, had argued for and against suicide, concluding with this singular avowal, "D'ailleurs, je ne suis pas entièrement depourvu de tout sentiment reiigieux." I may add that the surprise I then felt at the conduct of the French people was much modified when I afterwards, during a long resi dence in France, acquired a more intimate knowledge of the national character and of its distinguishing attributes-vanity and fickleness; knowledge that has impressed me with a strong conviction that the day may come-scilicet et by dynastic aspirations by no means unnatural, tempus veniet-when Napoleon's successor may, or, more probably, by insane attempts at territorial aggrandisement, end his life a captive in a foreign prison; and, despite the substantial benefits he has conferred upon his country, may find himself, like his mighty predecessor, abandoned, vilified, and forgotten.-The Life and Times of Henry Lord Brougham..

a