From the Examiner, 3 Aug. MOST people must have been startled to find that a sanguinary battle has been fought between some eighty thousand men in a quarrel, which, in truth, is little more than a provincial dispute. drew forth the irregular troops and cavalry that formed the left wing of the defence, and left the rest more exposed to his ultimate and only real attack, the final one, which drove Willisen and the Schleswig-Holsteiners from their position. The The battle appears to have been well fought on both sides, and it is certainly decisive. troops of the Duchies may yet rally, but it will be without power or stomach to renew a contest which went against them whilst they were still strong and confident. The difficult question remains as to whether the Danes will advance into Holstein. They have stipulated in the treaty not to do so without first consulting the German Con We have often stated the pretensions of the Danes to treat the Germans of the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein as appertaining to the monarchy, and subject to Copenhagen. It might have been better if those pretensions were just. We could now feel disposed almost to regret that Denmark did not conquer the Duchies in ages past, when conquest was the order of the day, and when populations were disposed to abide by federation. such awards. Unfortunately, Denmark achieved no such conquests; its kings merely acquiring the Duchies as independent provinces, with rights, states, and laws of succession of their own. If the Holsteiners and Schleswigers, therefore, have rebelled during these late years, it has been the fault of past years. But the German Confederation does not exist, the powers separately refusing to sign the treaty. The Danes, therefore, may take advantage of this state of interregnum in Germany to enter Holstein and reduce it. If so, the triumph of Denmark and the humiliation of Prussia will be complete. Indeed, it becomes difficult to A series of anomalous and imagine how a Prussian government can survive unfixed relations, partly bequeathed, and partly the double unpopularity and disgrace to which created a mutual dislike and jealousy of race, difficult, nay, impossible at this advanced time of day, to overco.ne. There is one result of the decisive victory of they are now so lamentably reduced, of being most despotically severe at home and most pusillanimously cringing abroad. The cry has already It is sufficiently clear why those two small gone forth that the Prussian army is good for powers should have been permitted to fight this nothing but to act as a police, to clear the streets, bloody duel. Nothing is plainer than that Prus- and to people the gaols; and that in the presence sia and Austria would rush to war, and so decide of a national enemy it can but bend the knee or their differences to-morrow, did not Russia say turn its back. Such observations and reflections, nay to it. All war between these two great ri-made as they are by every one, are most dangervals, however, is forbidden; whilst, in the certi- ous in the present state of opinion in Germany; tude that the resources of Denmark would over- and what the feelings thus engendered may prowhelm Schleswig, the Danes have been allowed duce from one day to another, no one can tell. to employ the arbitration of the sword. The reason, we repeat, is obvious enough. Arrange- the Danes, not to be overlooked; which is, the ments had already been entered into, by which, on the death of the present King of Denmark and his brother, the crown of Denmark is to pass to the Duke of Oldenburg, a prince closely connected with the imperial family of Russia. There is no more right in this than in the substitution of Nicholas for Constantine; and the Duchies could never have been made to submit to it, unless reduced by force. Denmark was therefore not only allowed and encouraged, but enabled to effect this conquest. For there can be little doubt that the Danish army was reinforced by fresh and foreign corps, to a greater number than unassisted Denmark had ever before raised. inutility of any naval operations. The refusal of tent. From the Spectator. ROYAL ALLOWANCES. The Schleswigers possessed the advantage of choosing their own position, which they did between the lakes and marshes which cover the town of Schleswig. Had this position been duly fortified, it would have been impregnable. But Gen- NOTHING can be weaker than to make a resolve, eral Willisen, deeming himself equal in number yet to grudge the consequences and collaterals of to the enemy, disdained precautions which he the resolve. The English nation is firm in the might have taken had he known the immense su- resolve to have a monarchy, and it is quite conperiority of numbers on the part of the Danes. The Danish general, indeed, encouraged this temerity on the part of his foes. For permitting himself, with a reckless loss of officers and men, to be foiled in two successive attacks, he thereby vinced that it would be useless to have a monarchy unless it were "respectable" in its order. The English people would turn up its multitudinous nose at a monarchy on the plan of those little sovereignties, which even in Germany it has been exactly equivalent claims in any two pretenders, that is utterly annulled by our exact registrations. All these dangers, which the royal marriages act rudely attempts to exclude, have become imaginary. Politically, the reasons for the royal marriages act are shadows. thought decorous to mediatize, and so to merge in|liances, was given by Sir Robert Peel, when he larger samples of their order. The substantial stood by the etiquette of ministerial changes in middle-class-man would snap his fingers at the the queen's household. As to the possibility of pitiful, poverty-stricken thing; and the very Parliament convened and prorogued by a poor gentleman called royal, would share the contempt. It follows that the English people are prepared to have a royal family; and the English representatives are prepared to "vote" provision for the same, so as to render it quite respectable in the eyes of said people. Your Englishman never feels sure that anything is his till he has paid for it; "it is mine," he cries, with a triumphant air, "paid for!" It would be difficult to say how much of the monarch's constitutionally presumed popularity depends on the consciousness that the people has paid for its own; or how much of the feeling that enters into "God save the king" partakes of the principle of insurance. A gratuitous king would not be at all to the taste; the empire is not pauper, that it should be beholden to its potentate. And as for a 66 It is possible that some inconveniences might arise from too close an alliance between the actual monarch or immediate heirs and families not royal; but possible also that no dangers might threaten from such a connection. In our day, on the ceasing of other apprehensions, we may perceive some practical mischief from the too complete isolation of the royal family; which is thus shut out from sympathies, from the means of acquiring information, and even from the means of accommodating itself to the altering views of the times. The isolation forces the royal class to keep up a kind King Jacky-Jacky," of manners and customs peculiar to itself, and inon the cheap African fashion-the very tars and volving much expense; an obligation that would their pollies at Portsmouth would rebel against die out if the class were not so distinctly segrethe notion. We are therefore not only pledged gated. The disadvantages of permitting a conbut anxious to pay. nection between the royal and other classes are problematical; certain advantages are manifest. These considerations suggest that the exclusion of the marriages act should be thrown open, and in lieu of it, a limited exclusion established, which should be susceptible of further modification. This would be perfectly met by a law preventing sent of Parliament; whose objections would be merely political, and therefore not liable to personally tyrannical motives. This restriction might be limited to the immediate children of the sovereign; leaving the other branches free to take their own choice in matters matrimonial. Still the question does arise, where to draw the line? For king and consequences we are right willing to pay, and handsomely; but all the branches of a most prolific genealogical tree at once !—the whole burden of a banian !—that idea grows formidable to the economic mind. Queen Victoria and welcome; Prince Albert-a most a certain class of marriages except with the conworthy, discreet, good-looking, and popular prince consort; the Prince of Wales-always, in a constitutional eye, the nation's hope; the younger princes-the more the merrier; and the princesses-bless their little hearts: but if we go into collaterals and cousins, Heaven help us! we may be asked to make allowances for Hanover, half Germany, Sardinia, and the increasing section of the English peerage of the blood royal. It has been calculated that within not a very inappreciable degree of relationship all the people of a country are related; so that the future claims on behalf of royal descendants become terribly multitudinous. Lord Brougham's principle, that we should provide for all whom we exclude from the marriagemarket, seems to be just and sound; at that rate, we must provide for all possible descendants of George the Third-a wide possibility! Now what is the necessity for the first limb of this proposition-why keep up the exclusion of the royal marriages act? The pecuniary provision might be understood to go with the restriction; Parliament providing for all who are subject to the disability-namely, for the immediate children of the sovereign. This would keep up a provision for the uncles and aunts, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of the actual sovereign; leaving more distant relatives, who have not necessarily any instant concern in state affairs, to the usual resources of the world. In this way would arise a semi-royal class, uniting the noble and wealthier classes of this country to the crown by a connection socially but not politically recognized, yet having very useful influences even on the political action of the government. A NOBLE REPLY.-It is related of the celebraThe circumstances that rendered it expedient ted John Howe, chaplain to Oliver Cromwell, that or desired, have disappeared from society. The being often applied to for protection by men of all dread of royal pretenders, supported by armed parties, in those eventful times, he never refused retainers, is abolished by our strictly official con- assistance to any worthy person, whatever his retrol of all that can be called armed retainers; and ligious views; until one day Cromwell said to him, "Mr. Howe, you have asked favors for recent debates have prevented all dread of a yeo- everybody except yourself; pray when does your manry corps to back any imaginable Plantagenet. turn come?" My turn, my lord protector," The coup-de-grace to "back-stairs influence," said Howe, "is always come when I can serve such as might be promoted by matrimonial al- another."-Waterston. 66 SHORT ARTICLES.-Feast at the London Tavern; Faith and Opinion, 497.-Quaker Dress, 498.The Bible; Yew Tree renewing itself by Decomposition; Passengers at Fourpence a head, 511.-Ice in the Atlantic; Tenantry in the Sixteenth Century, 525.-A Noble Reply, 527. NEW BOOK.-The Berber, or the Mountaineer of the Atlas, 498. TERMS.-The LIVING AGE is published every Satur- Agencies. We are desirous of making arrangements day, by E. LITTELL & Co., corner of Tremont and Brom-in all parts of North America, for increasing the circulafield sts., Boston; Price 123 cents a number, or six dollars tion of this work-and for doing this a liberal commission a year in advance. Remittances for any period will be will be allowed to gentlemen who will interest themselves thankfully received and promptly attended to. 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Postage on the monthly parts is about 14 cents. The volumes are published quarterly, each volume containing as much matter as a quarterly review gives in eighteen months. E. LITTELL & CO., BOSTON. WASHINGTON, 27 Dec. 1845. Or all the Periodical Journals devoted to literature and science which abound in Europe and in this country, this has appeared to me the most useful. It contains indeed the exposition only of the current literature of the Englis language, but this, by its um ense extent and comprehension, includes a portraiture of the human mind in the utmos expansion of the present age. J Q. ADAMS LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 331.-21 SEPTEMBER, 1850. THE MYSTERIOUS COMPACT. A FREE TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN. PART I. In the latter years of the last century, two youths, Ferdinand von Hallberg, and Edward von Wensleben were receiving their education in the military academy of Marienvheim. Among their schoolfellows, they were called Orestes and Pylades, or Damon and Pythias, on account of their tender friendship, which constantly recalled to their schoolfellows' minds the history of these ancient worthies. Both were sons of officers, who had long served the state with honor, both were destined for their fathers' profession, both accomplished and endowed by nature with no mean talents. But fortune had not been so impartial in the distribution of her favors-Hailberg's father lived on a small pension, by means of which he defrayed the expenses of his son's schooling at the cost of the government; while Wenssleben's parents willingly paid the handsomest salary in order to ensure to their only child the best education which the establishment afforded. This disparity in circumstances at first produced a species of proud reserve, amounting to coldness, in Ferdinand's deportment, which yielded by degrees to the cordial affection that Edward manifested towards him on every occasion. Two years older than Edward, of a thoughtful and almost melancholy turn of mind, Ferdinand soon gained a considerable influence over his weaker friend, who clung to him with almost girlish dependence. Their companionship had now lasted, with satisfaction and happiness to both, for several years, and the youths had formed for themselves the most delightful plans-how they were never to separate, how they were to enter the service in the same regiment, and, if a war broke out, how they were to fight side by side, and conquer, or die together. But destiny, or rather Providence, whose plans are usually opposed to the designs of mortals, had ordained otherwise for the friends than they anticipated. Earlier than was expected, Hallberg's father found an opportunity to have his son appointed to an infantry regiment, and he was ordered immediately to join the staff in a small provincial town, in an out-of-the-way mountainous district. This announcement fell like a thunderbolt on the two friends; but Ferdinand considered himself by far the more unhappy, since it was ordained that he should be the one to sever the happy bond that bound them, and to inflict a deep wound on his loved companion. His school-fellows vainly endeavored to console him by calling his attention to his new commission, and the preference which had been shown him above so many others. He only thought of the approaching separation; he only saw his friend's grief, and passed the few remaining days that were allowed him at the academy by Edward's side, who husbanded every moment of his Ferdinand's society with jealous care, and could not bear to lose sight of him for an instant. VOL. XXVI. 34 CCCXXXI. LIVING AGE. In one of their most melancholy hours, excited by sorrow and youthful enthusiasm, they bound themselves by a mysterious vow, namely, that the one whom God should think fit to call first from this world should bind himself (if conformable to the divine will) to give some sign of his remembrance and affection to the survivor. The place where this vow was made was a solitary spot in the garden, by a monument of gray marble, overshadowed by dark firs, which the former director of the institution had caused to be erected to the memory of his son, whose premature death was recorded on the stone. Here the friends met at night, and by the fitful light of the moon they pledged themselves to the rash and fanciful contract, and confirmed and consecrated it, the next morning, by a religious ceremony. After this they were able to look the approaching separation in the face more manfully, and Edward strove hard to quell the melancholy feeling which had lately arisen in his mind on account of the constant foreboding that Ferdinand expressed of his own early death. "No," thought Edward, "his pensive turn of mind and his wild imagination cause him to reproach himself without a cause for my sorrow and his own departure. Oh, no, Ferdinand will not die early-he will not die before me! Providence will not leave me alone in the world." The lonely Edward strove hard to console himself, for, after Ferdinand's departure, the house, the world itself, seemed a desert; and, absorbed by his own memories, he now recalled to mind many a dark speech which had fallen from his absent friend, particularly in the latter days of their intercourse, and which betokened but too plainly a presentiment of early death. But time and youth exercised, even over these sorrows, their irresistible influence. Edward's spirits gradually recovered their tone; and as the traveller always has the advantage over the one who remains behind, in respect of new objects to occupy his mind, so was. Ferdinand even sooner calmed and cheered, and by. degrees he became engrossed by his new daties, and new acquaintances, not to the exclusion, indeed, of his friend's memory, but greatly to the alleviation of his own sorrow. It was natural, in such circumstances, that the young officer should console himself sooner than poor Edward. The country in which Hallberg found himself was wild and mountainous, but possessed all the charms and peculiarities of "far off" districts-simple, hospitable manners, old-fashioned customs, many tales and legends which arise from the credulity of the mountaineers, who invariably lean towards the marvellous, and love to people the wild solitudes with invisible beings. Ferdinand had soon, without seeking for it, made acquaintance with several respectable families in the town; and, as it generally happens in such cases, he had become quite domesticated in the best country houses in the neighborhood; and the wellmannered, handsome, and agreeable youth was welcomed everywhere. The simple, patriarchal life in these old mansions and castles-the cordial- | sion of the beloved one. All else faded from before his eyes, and even his correspondence slackened; for his time was much taken up in secret excursions, arrangements of all kinds, and communications with all manner of persons; in fact every action of his present life tended to the furtherance of his plan. Another fortnight dragged heavily on, and at length the announcement came in an official form. Lieutenant von Hallberg had been invited to the castle of a nobleman, whom he was in the custom of visiting, in order to be present at the wedding of a lady; that he was indisposed at the time, that he grew worse, and on the third morning had been found dead in his bed, having expired during the night from an attack of apoplexy. ity of the people, the wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were entirely to Hallberg's taste. He adapted himself easily to his new mode of life, but his heart remained tranquil. This could not last. Before half a year had passed, the battalion to which he belonged was ordered to another station, and he had to part with All of a sudden his letters ceased. Many posts many friends. The first letter which he wrote passed without a sign of life. Edward was a after this change, bore the impression of impatience prey to the greatest anxiety; he thought his friend at the breaking up of a happy time. Edward had staked and lost. He imagined an elopement, found this natural enough; but he was surprised a clandestine marriage, a duel with a rival, and in the following letters to detect signs of a disturbed all these casualties were the more painful to conand desultory state of mind, wholly foreign to his jecture, since his entire ignorance of the real state friend's nature. The riddle was soon solved. of things gave his fancy full range to conjure up all Ferdinand's heart was touched for the first time, sorts of misfortunes. At length, after many more and, perhaps, because the impression had been posts had come in without a line to pacify Edward's made late, it was all the deeper. Unfavorable cir- fears, without a word in reply to his earnest encumstances opposed themselves to his hopes the treaties for some news, he determined on taking a young lady was of ancient family, rich, and be-step which he had meditated before, and only retrothed since her childhood to a relation, who was linquished out of consideration for his friend's expected shortly to arrive in order to claim her wishes. He wrote to the officer commanding the promised hand. Notwithstanding this engage-regiment, and made inquiries respecting the health ment, Ferdinand and the young girl had become and abode of Lieutenant von Hallberg, whose sincerely attached to each other, and had both re- friends in the capital had remained for nearly two solved to dare everything with the hope of being months without news of him, he who had hitherto united. They pledged their troth in secret; the proved a regular and frequent correspondent. darkest mystery enveloped not only their plans, but their affections; and as secrecy was necessary to the advancement of their projects, Ferdinand entreated his friend to forgive him if he did not entrust his whole secret to a sheet of paper that had at least sixty miles to travel, and which must pass through so many hands. It was impossible from his letter to guess the name of the person or the place in question. "You know that I love," he wrote, "therefore you know that the object of Edward could not finish the letter-it fell from my secret passion is worthy of any sacrifice; for his trembling hand. To see his worst fears realyou know your friend too well to believe him ized so suddenly, overwhelmed him at first. His capable of any blind infatuation, and this must suf-youth withstood the bodily illness which would fice for the present. No one must suspect what have assailed a weaker constitution, and perhaps we are to each other; no one here or round the mitigated the anguish of his grief. He was not neighborhood must have the slightest clue to our dangerously ill, but they feared many days for his plans. An awful personage will soon make his reason; and it required all the kind solicitude of appearance among us. His violent temper, his the director of the college, combined with the most inveterate obstinacy (according to all that one hears skilful medical aid, to stem the torrent of his sorof him) are well calculated to confirm in her a row, and to turn it gradually into a calmer channel, well-founded aversion. But family arrangements until by degrees the mourner recovered both health and legal contracts exist, the fulfilment of which and reason. His youthful spirits, however, had the opposing party are bent on enforcing. The received a blow from which they never rebounded, struggle will be hard-perhaps, unsuccessful; and one thought lay heavy on his mind which he notwithstanding, I will strain every nerve. Should was unwilling to share with any other person, and I fall, you must console yourself, my dear Edward, which on that account, grew more and more painwith the thought, that it will be no misfortune to ful. It was the memory of that holy promise your friend to be deprived of an existence rendered which had been mutually contracted, that the surmiserable by the failure of his dearest hopes, and vivor was to receive some token of his friend's reseparation from his dearest friend. Then may all membrance of him after death. Now two months the happiness which Heaven has denied me be had already passed since Ferdinand's earthly career vouchsafed to you and her, so that my spirit may had been arrested; his spirit was free, why no sign? look down contentedly from the realms of light, In the moment of death Edward had had no intimaand bless and protect you both." tion, no message from the passing spirit, and this apparent neglect, so to speak, was another deep wound in Edward's breast. Do the affections cease with life? Was it contrary to the will of the Almighty that the mourner should taste this consolation? Did individuality lose itself in death, and with it memory? Or did one stroke destroy spirit, and body? These anxious doubts, which have before now agitated many who reflect on such subjects, exercised their power over Edward's mind with an intensity that none can imagine save one whose position is in any degree similar. Such was the usual tenor of the letters which Edward received during that period. His heart was full of anxiety-he read danger and distress in the mysterious communications of Ferdinand; and every argument that affection and good sense could suggest did he make use of, in his replies, to turn his friend from this path of peril which threatened to end in a deep abyss. He tried persuasion, and urged him to desist for the sake of their long-tried affection. But when did passion ever listen to the expostulations of friendship? Ferdinand only saw one aim in life-the posses Time gradually deadened the intensity of his |