I speak to him. It is in vain that I strive only to think of what I say to him; my imagination, in spite of myself, travels from Warsaw to Tobolsk, and that single word, Warsaw, revives all my distrust. Does the world know that, at the present hour (1839), the roads of Asia are once again covered with exiles torn from their hearths, and proceeding on foot to their tomb, as the herds leave their pastures for the slaughter-house? This revival of wrath is attributable to a pretended Polish conspiracy, a conspiracy of youthful madmen, who would have been heroes had they succeeded; and who, their attempt being desperate, only appear to me the more generously devoted. My heart bleeds for the exiles, their families, and their country. What will be the result, when the oppressors of this corner of the earth, where chivalry once flourished, shall have peopled Tartary with all that was most noble and courageous amongst the sons of ancient Europe? When they have thus crowned their icy policy, let them enjoy their success. Siberia will have become the kingdom, and Poland the desert.' After stating the case of the Prince Troubetzkoï, who was condemned as a convict to hard labour for the part that he took in the revolt, when the present emperor assumed the imperial authority, in a most graphic and heartrending manner, and the cold-blooded cruelty of the emperor towards the wife of the prince, who was of a family among the most distinguished in the land, he exclaims:"The relations of the exiles, the Troubetzkoï, a powerful family, live at Petersburg, and they attend the court! Such is the spirit, the dignity, the independence of the Russian aristocracy! this empire of violence, fear justifies everything-nay, more, it is the only merit that is sure to receive reward. In 'I have no more hesitation, no more uncertainty of opinion as regards the character of the Emperor Nicholas; my judgment of that prince is at length formed. He is a man of talent and of resolution; it needs that he should be, to constitute himself the jailor of the third of the globe; but he wants magnanimity; the use that he makes of his power only too clearly proves this to me. May God pardon him! happily, I shall never see him again. 'I shall finish my journey, but without going to Borodino; without being pre sent at the arrival of the court at the Kremlin; without speaking more of the emperor. What can I say of that prince that the reader does not now know as well as I? To form an idea of men and things in this land, it is necessary to remember that plenty of occurrences, similar to the one I have related, take place here, though they remain unknown. It required an extraordinary concurrence of circumstances to reveal to me the facts which my conscience obliges me here to record.' Such is the picture of Nicholas, drawn by the hand of one who laboured hard to find in him commendable qualitics, but who found facts too numerous and too stubborn for his pre-conceived opinions. Turn we now again to Count De Garowski, with whose searching analysis we conclude this paper: Не 'Much has been said about the external personal appearance of Nicholas. is as vainglorious of it as any dandy. The glance of his large, blue-greenish, crystal-like, limpid eyes, pierces through and through, as with the points of two freezing icicles. A cold pang seizes one's whole being on receiving their full glare. Nicholas was not destined from his childhood to ascend the imperial throne; but his education was not neglected. In the execution of these sentences (against those who led the revolt at his ascension) at the time, as well as during the long exile, twenty years for some of the condemned, Nicholas has shown glimpses of a character and feelings, which have more than once come to light during his reign, revealing a cold-blooded heart, and the disposition of a tyrant, as far as it is possible to be one in our times, even in Russia. The most prominent and deepest feature in his character, darkening his actions, is an inexorable, unextinguishable rancour. He distils forgiveness slowly drop after drop; never, however, wholly filling the cup of pardon, forgetful thus of one of the most popular Russian adages:- Be unyielding in punishing, be grand in pardon." His mother inspired him with a rigidity of principles, and with a religious respect for his own word. Thus he has a certain scrupulous honesty. He treats with contempt or dislike all diplomatic tricks, or diplomatic tortuosity. He is a good husband, an excellent father; but these qualities do not always indicate a true generosity of soul. Few, if any, have seen a In fact, since the time of Basil the warm tear moisten his eye at a great general, and not his own personal, misfortune. From the beginning of his reign one can say that he has been generous in his own way, and even lavish, principally for ostentation when in foreign lands, as well as to those who surround him, and whom he believes to be wholly devoted to his person. In that part of his reign, when his moral influence was in the ascendant, the czar tried, as we have already seen, to kindle and to spread among the people some sparks or glimpses of light and vitality. But ten or twelve years ago a change took place. His mind faltered, and the downward movement began. The regions of despotic power, limited neither by law nor reason, are like the ethereal space where swim the celestial bodies, in themselves dark, frigid, and lifeless. In that cheerless sphere the czar lost the perception of light. He became afraid of his own work, and learned to dread civilisation. He evoked and made a compact with the spirit of darkness, and arrayed him against his own nation. The better germs in his mind withered and shrunk, while the weeds of his character grew exuberantly, poisoning and strangling all the generous pulsations of his heart. The time when he allowed some of his councillors to give him even the most humble advice, came to an end. Now he began to ask for blind compliance, and the most debasing adulation. Once, for example, he had authorised the old Prince Gallitzin, the Governor-General of Moscow, to address him frankly, and to inform him if any of his acts were unpalatable to the national spirit. The prince, enjoying the highest esteem of the public, as well as an elevated social and official position, sometimes, though very seldom, made use of this confidential permission. 'Once he recognised the idea of the For a period his observations were gra- supremacy of the law. This was someciously received. But on one occasion, thing. It was a recognition of the perwhen he forewarned the sovereign about sona juris in his subjects. But now the a measure which was not at all welcome law is himself, his will, his wish. Thus to the nation, the despot told him :- he is the only persona in the empire— 'Prince, you are becoming revolution- others are in reality merely things-and ary; once I wanted advisers, now I can persons so far as his will allows them to rule by myself without them." And be such, so long as they submit to move so he began to rule. He within the iron limits of his whims and of his narrowing notions. Intellectual life-even physical life-can be allowed to exist only so far as they assimilate themselves to, and support the control exercised by, czarism. But Nicholas has stretched the reins to such a rigidity, that everybody is hurt and wounded, from the was the first to raise the spy system to the supreme honours of the court, and to introduce it into the imperial councils. Alexander looked on it, and treated it, as a shameful necessity. Never until now was it spit forth so directly into the face of the nation, or in so offensive a manner. 'In relation to Europe, to the outward and ultra-Russian world, Nicholas firmly and absolutely believes that he is predestined to maintain the ancient tottering order, to shelter and restore legitimacy, to combat and conquer the forces of hell, represented by progress, light, and the emancipatory revolution. This faith in his vocation explains the generosity of his conduct toward Austria after the affair of Hungary. He even-for the first time in his life-forgave, on that event, the house of Hapsburg for the most cruel, the most deadly offence which could have been inflicted on the heart and feelings of a father, and on the honour of a man. magnate down to the serf. Every class feels the debasement-feels that by him all vitality, all individuality except his Own, are absorbed or annihilated. Nearly seventy millions of human beings are, after all, mere chattels, living only for him, and through his imperial concession. It is so now-but last it cannot. This tension will break the reins, if not in his own hands, in those of his successor. Those who pronounce his name with a curse are numerous, and belong to all social classes; and more numerous are they who are choked by the words "Czar" and "Nicholas," and never stain their lips with them.' LETTER TO THE EDITOR. SIR,I have had great pleasure in Such being the case, I am sure, sir, you will allow an attached servant of the firm to transmit to you a brief statement of some of the yet unprinted particulars. The school-room, alluded to in your August article as 'my brother's schoolroom,' is interesting as being the scene of the earliest efforts of Mr W. Spottiswoode for the elevation of his operatives. It was there he began, by endeavouring to impart instruction to his machine boys -the most uncultivated class in the establishment-the terror of the neighbourhood—the torment of the policeman -the recruits of the prize-ring. For months he toiled unobserved, unseen, with but little encouragement save from his own high determination to succeed. By degrees an improvement became visible; indications of civilisation began to appear; and the good work proceeded with accelerated speed, when the lady you have mentioned, like a beneficent spirit from a higher sphere, joined her labours to those of her brother, and overcame by her gentle teachings the rugged natures of those she taught. This was benevolence. It was beginning with those most in need. It was acting in the spirit of Him who of old commanded his followers to commence their saving ministry among those who were the most guilty of men. The annual examination' of these, and of the other boys now under instruction, is quite an event in the office. The last examination was conducted by the Rev. G. R. Gleig, Inspector-General of Military Schools, and the prizes were distributed by the Bishop of London, after which a plentiful repast of tea and cake was disposed of by the boys, and the teachers were honoured with invitations to tea in the library of the mansion of Mr G. Spottiswoode. On all these occasions the proceedings are graced by the presence of Mr Eyre, the other respected member of the firm, and of Mr and Mrs Andrew Spottiswoode, and the Misses Spottiswoode, whose unaffected kindness and condescension are beyond all praise. Besides the musical entertainments you mention, many evenings during the winter months are enlivened by lectures on various interesting subjects, mostly by Mr Spottiswoode and his friends, but occasionally by some of the employed. I enclose one of the latter, that you may judge of their quality, and wish I could send you a copy of Mr Spottiswoode's last, which comprised a capital account of his travels in France, Spain, and Northern Africa, and was illustrated by a whole museum of rare and curious articles he had brought home, and by views of the places he had passed through. These articles, by the way, were afterwards arranged for the further inspection of persons in the office, and their friends. Before quitting the subject of the lectures, it may be worth mentioning, that the one of which I send you a copy got into print on this wise. Being much approved, several persons were desirous of reading as well as hearing it, and begged the loan of the manuscript. Somebody suggested it should be printed; compositors volunteered the composition gratis, pressmen the press-work, Mr Spottiswoode gave the paper and use of the materials, and in due time every person in the office was presented with a copy. If this is not 'co-operation' of master and man, I should like to know what is. In addition to the library you have spoken of, we have one in this department of nearly 1000 volumes, the fort nightly issue from which is between 200 and 300 books. But the Messrs Spottiswoode do not confine their solicitude to the comfort and improvement of their employés during the hours of business; it follows them to their homes, provides them with recreation while in health, soothes them in sickness, sympathises with them in trouble, and extricates them from difficulty. They join their men with freedom, but with no loss of dignity, in their games of cricket, their boating, and their rural excursions; and Mr W. Spottiswoode, in particular, by personal visits to their houses, has made himself acquainted with the circumstances, wants, and wishes of nearly the whole of his numerous staff. Ever ready to forward their views, and accessible to the humblest, he proves himself the steady and efficient friend of all who have the privilege of being in his service; and it may be safely affirmed, that no case of deserving distress comes within range of the extensive benevolence, either of himself or of the other members of the estimable family to which he belongs, without receiving prompt and adequate relief.-I remain, Sir, your obedient servant, TYPO. NOTES ON BOOK S. The Thistle and the Cedar. By H. R. ALLAH EFFENDI. London: Madden. THE 'Thistle and the Cedar of Lebanon' is not one more volume added to the many quaintly entitled Journals of Eastern Travel, with which European wanderers have filled our libraries. The author, Habeeb Risk Allah Effendi, a native of the Lebanon, has reversed the usual order of things, and has given to the public a Syrian's impressions of England, and of several parts of the Continent, as well as an interesting account of the manners and social position of his own countrymen. Starting with his early life, spent in the neighbourhood of Beirout, we follow him as the dashe of a European diplomatist, through some parts of Syria and Asia Minor. The author then proceeds to Malta, Paris, and London, where he studies medicine, and takes an English degree. His travels extend to Edinburgh, where the boys shout after him, "The Turk! the Turk!' Glowing descriptions and brilliant imaginings will naturally be expected in the work of an Eastern, but the style of Habeeb Risk is, on the contrary, the plainest and least pretending imaginable; and there is no colouring or poetic exaggeration in his descriptions. A cowslip' is to him 'a yellow cowslip, a flower, and nothing more;' and the title of the work is the only metaphor it contains. The 'Thistle' represents the orthodox Greek Church, and the 'Cedar' the slender body of Protestants scattered over Syria, whilst the Church of Rome figures as the 'wild beast of the Lebanon.' The work is, however, far from condemnatory of the Thistle.' The author says much more in its favour than we are accustomed to hear, or than we think it deserves. Great preference is given to it over the Roman Catholic Church, chiefly on the grounds of its antiquity, and of the greater purity of its creed and doctrines. The ignorance of its clergy is, at the same time, confessed, and, among other admissions, we read that the orthodox clergy, 'following the example of the Romish Church in manufacturing miracles, pretend to draw fire down from heaven; the agency employed on the occasion being either a lucifer match or a phosphorus bottle.' Dr Habeeb's views of religion are, however, it must be confessed, not altogether clear or intelligible. The author has had an extraordinary knack of meeting with remarkable personages, and has conversed with almost every celebrity from Lady Hester Stanhope to Cardinal Wiseman. Among these is Sir Charles Napier, who informed him, 'that he now much regretted the part he had taken in Eastern politics. There is much confusion and jumbling in the book, both in regard to narrative and sentiment, whilst the reader's powers of belief are pretty strongly taxed by certain tales and anecdotes scattered through its pages. At the same time, some insight is given into Syrian manners, and scenes are described by a native, to which few European travellers could obtain access, and if we are not presented with any very profoun 1 observations on England, we are favoured with some amusing sketches of English manners. Finally, Habeeb Risk Allah Effendi is an ardent admirer of everything British, particularly of its matchless brown-haired beauties, some one of whom he earnestly desires to carry off with him as his wife. If the portrait with which he has favoured them as a frontispiece does not flatter, we do not think he has any cause to despair of that success, which we very heartily wish him. Bokinga: a Novel. By MORTON RAE. London: Hookham & Sons. We have read 'Bokinga' from beginning to end, not because the story, in itself, merits so much of the time of a journalist, but because it seemed a duty in connection with such a work. Of the author we know nothing, and even though we did, that should not hinder us from dealing faithfully by him, and by the public. Well, there is no lack of power in the work; but there is defect, or perhaps inexperience, in the development of the plot. Artistically considered, the book is a failure. But this is far from being the worst thing about it. Its delineations of character are frequently unnatural, its conclusions relative to certain classes are uncharitable and erroneous, its spirit and tone are unhealthy and hurtful. What right has Mr Morton Rae to assert that his conception of a governess, is a fair specimen of that meritorious class of persons? By what authority does he give out the poor drivel of a clergyman that struts over his pages, as a genuine sample of those who profess and practise the doctrines of 'Luther?' Report of the Dick Bequest. Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons. This Report, of twenty-one years' experience of the Dick Bequest, for elevating the character and position of the parochial schools and schoolmasters in the Counties of Aberdeen, Banff, and Moray, does great credit to the clerk to the trustees-Professor Menzies, of Edinburgh University. The pains and labour bestowed upon it (a volume of nearly 500 pages) must have been immense. After examining the Report carefully, we cannot state our impressions of the ability and judgment with which the trustees have hitherto discharged their delicate, as well as difficult duties, too strongly. It will not, of course, be understood that we express, in this notice, any opinion of the principle; we simply have to deal with an existing benevolent arrangement for the benefit of certain parties in the counties above named. The Report proves very satisfactorily that the Bequest has done, and under the same judicious management it inspires the hope that it will still do, much good. The Poetical Works of Samuel Butler. Vol. I. Edinburgh: James Nichol. The materials for a Life of Butler are very scanty. In the present sketch, prefixed to the poetical works of that poet, Mr Gilfillan has made the most of those at his disposal, although it is not difficult to perceive, that between the writer and his subject there is little sympathy. 'Hudibras' occupies the present volume, and throughout, the editor's pen has been at work giving explanatory notes, which such a poem very much requires, to make it intelligible to the readers of the present day. This is a beautiful edition of 'Hudibras,' worthy of its predecessors in the same cheap and substantial series. |