tailed of the power, and even, as in England, | itors have stepped in. Revolution is the bankrestrained wholly from action, by a compli- ruptcy of kings. cated machinery, existing only in theory, called constitutional principles.

The natural tendency of man, as he advances towards perfection, is to emancipate himself from rule, and govern himself. In England we have made some progress in this way, by rendering the monarchy a fiction, and by curtailing the power of the House of Lords. It is naturally to be expected, that as enlightenment and education spread, we shall approach even nearer to democracy, and openly invest with rule, the only body possessed of divine right-the people. In Continental States the progress would have been of the same slow character, had the monarchs been wise. In 1789, in France, honest ministers, a wise aristocracy, a sensible king, and a harmless queen, would have saved the monarchy. In 1830, none but a bigoted old man, striving to destroy the semblance of liberty existing in the Charter, could have roused up the revolution of July. In 1848, honest ministers, a king disposed to act with common justice, decency, and fairness, towards the people who had raised him up, would have saved the dynasty. Gradual reforms, granted yearly, the accustoming of the people to political rights; the giving of these to them by insensible degrees, would have carried Louis Philippe to the grave, and perhaps transmitted the throne to one of his sons. The end of all this would have been a Republic. But then France would have been better prepared for it, more educated, more enlightened, more used to political existence. Prussia, Austria, Spain, Portugal, Sicily, all gave us specimens of the bad faith, dishonesty, and folly of European kings. In becoming monarchs of a land, great or small, the fortunate individuals whom accident, force, or violence, place upon a throne, contract a deep debt to the nation. The nation gives them all—or, rather, they take all-liberty, property, life, are all at the disposition of the king, in every real monarchy; and the least the king can do is to give happiness, contentment, and peace, to the people.

But France, forced into revolution by the folly, incapacity, and selfishness of its rulers, has shown the world a rare picture. Despite all the calumnies which have been promulgated, what is the fact? The people, by universal suffrage, have selected a National Assembly, moderate in the extreme, calm, prudent-whose only fault is, that it leans too much towards old theories, ideas, and principles. The wild Socialists are in a wretched minority, while even the real Republicans are not a large majority, if they have one at all. The nation is giving itself a form of government, firm, solid, and likely to be durable. Commerce, trade, and credit, are, it is true, slowly rising from prostration, but this is the natural result of a sudden and violent change. One fact, however, is certain, trade and commerce are reviving. The Paris shopkeepers cease to complain so virulently; their occupation is not gone, and there are symptoms of the winter bringing even better things. At Lyons, and in the other manufacturing districts, occupation is being resumed; and if expectation from England has dwindled almost to nothing, it is because we will no longer give credit to those who are well enough disposed to buy.

The great questions of the month have been the change of ministry and the presidential election.

The causes of the change of ministry is evident. Cavaignac is used up. The Republicans of the old school hate him. The modern Republicans distrust him. It is useless denying evidence. Cavaignac, as Minister of War, allowed the June insurrection to take place, that he might overthrow Lamartine and secure his office. As soon as this became clear as noon-day, Cavaignac felt that his election as President of the Republic was very problematical. He saw that not one solitary Republican vote would be given to him, and he determined to gain other supporters, by courting the old Whigs a centre gauche. Not wholly to break with the Republicans, he kept the men of the National in, but they support him now coldly. The Democratic party is about two hundred strong; the moderate Republicans are about fifty men; leaving four hundred and fifty Carlists, Conservatives, Royalists, and persons converted to Republican principles from necessity.

Now the ruler is in the same position as a trader. He borrows or buys largely, perhaps more than he has a right to, but as long as he pays, nobody has a word to say. Let him, however, fail to keep his promises, and the consequence is bankruptcy. So with kings. As long as they fulfil their engagements, their creditors are patient and content. Thus in Whatever people may think in England, England, where the debtor and creditor account there is no sane man in all France who believes is not altogether disproportionate, the mon- any form of government possible save a Rearchy remains unshaken. In Europe the kings public. I never heard a political man of any have taken all and given nothing. The cred-party who did not frankly say this. But

introducing one wild or delusive theory into practice.

The weakness of Ledru Rollin, however, lies in the support which will be given to Raspail by the Socialists, to Caussidiere by the mere Revolutionists, and to Louis Blanc by the working men of his school, while even Cabet will have votes. Doubtless, too, hundreds of other local candidates will have a few votes wasted on them.

A month will show.

The raising of the state of siege is an agreeable announcement to make. It puts us in a normal state here, and will encourage many persons to return to Paris. There is a difference of opinion, but many believe that Paris will be the gayest of the gay this winter. Preparations are making. The Presidential soirees will, of course, be splendid.

Rents are rising, furniture is getting dear, there are fewer sales, fewer apartments to let. These are the very best signs which could exist in Paris. The Bourse shows very little change. Gold is sixteen francs a thousand, and abundant. Silver is a drug, and scarce anything can now be got by changing notes into specie.

The Presidential fever once allayed, the provisional state will be at an end, and then alone can the new democratic institutions of France be judged. They must, of course, have a long trial before they can be rightly appreciated. But while the provisoire exists, we must condemn and lament the results of Revolution; but the results of democracy we only know as yet in the United States, and there we can but form a favorable opinion. Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.

"What a bore these old Peninsular Fellows are."-Young Soldier of 1848.

In the year 1813, I was stationed at Santan- | der (St. Andero) in Spain. It was a great depôt for the supply of the army then concentrated upon the Bayonne frontier of France. Santander derived its supplies from Belem, near Lisbon. They were sent round in fleets of victuallers, and received into store at Santander, from whence they were forwarded weekly in small convoys of five or six vessels to Passages and St Jean de Leez. About six leagues distant from Santander, and in the direct route to Passages, was situated the harbor of Santona, where was still, although in the rear of the British army, a French garrison of about three thousand men, under the command of General Charles Lameth. The harbors of Santander and Santona were, as I have said, about six leagues apart, but the entrance to them was not very dissimilar. The eye of a master of a victualler as regarded foreign ports was not, at the time I describe, of the most accurately practised description, neither were there then any temperance ships; it will not, therefore, be a matter of great surprise that a skipper, after a voyage from Belem, should, on a hazy morning, mistake the one port for the other; and so, in fact, one very clever skipper did. Confidently, he entered the harbor of Santona for that of Santander, and with a full cargo of

barley, the clothing of five regiments, innumerable packages of private baggage, and a lot of passengers, triumphantly brought his good ship to an anchor in the lion's mouth!

No sooner was the Eliza, John Brown, master, safely moored, than she was boarded by a boat full of soldiers armed to the teeth; their bright barrels and bayonets glittering in the sun. John Brown laughed-laughed long and loud, and Wilkins the mate laughed too.

"I say, Wilkins," says the skipper, "what the d-I do these Spaniards take us for? I suppose they think we are smugglers. This here bit of paper, however," holding out his bill of lading, "when they see it, will soon spoil their fun, and show them that they got no prize in us. How the Commissary will laugh, when I goes ashore by and bye, and tells 'un all about it!"

The French officer in command of the boarding party had by this time quietly taken possession of the vessel's deck, and advancing towards the skipper, hat in hand, with a truly French shrug of the shoulders, and ironical smile, most politely welcomed him to Santona, observing that Mon General was so delighted at the confiding manner with which he had entered the harbor, that he had ordered him to escort him immediately to head quarters to

|

pass the Spaniards by land, and as a nautical | expect that your honor won't make prisoners man, you may pretty well guess, with so many of such a harmless-like set of merchant seamen of your man-of-war cruisers on and off the coast, as we be; but like your honor's self, allow us what little chance we had of receiving supplies to be at liberty to go a-foot to Santander, and from Bayonne by sea. I am not much sur- to take our little private kits with us. I'll prised at your having paid us this visit, for I promise your honor we 'll find our way into our have oftentimes seen vessels, which I know to right berth this time, and no mistake. Our be victuallers, arrive off Santander unaccom- passengers, too, your honor, be but a poor lot, panied by any ship of war. Now, it is very not worth your honor's feeding, seeing as how possible in bad or misty weather, to mistake you be upon short allowance. They be only the one port for the other, and I have often officers' servants in charge of their masters' thought that if convoy for defence was consid- baggage. But I'd forgot, there be one lady ered to be unnecessary, yet, were it merely to passenger, a regular topper, your honor, too, avoid the casualty which has now occurred an Irish lady, the wife of a medico, as they to yourself, it was not prudent to allow any calls them doctors. She was a going to join her provision ship to make the voyage from Lisbon husband at Santander." to Santander without one. It is true you have many ships of war in the harbor of Santander, and the little Ly-a watches that of Santona; but where was she this morning, when you came in? Moreover, I too have a little manof-war, a privateer, in this harbor, which contrives occasionally to slip in and out, in despite of the vigilance of your cruisers; and it is not quite a month ago that she got almost alongside of a lofty blue-sided brig standing towards Santander; aye, and would have captured her too, had not the captain's brandy fallen short, so that he could not induce the crew to board.' John Brown appeared to listen attentively to all the General said. He knew, by sad experience, how very easy it was to get into the harbor of Santona instead of that of Santander, but he was all the while thinking how very different it might be for him to get out of it. When the General spoke of the big blue-sided ship, which his privateer did not take, John thought how uncommonly blue he should look if ever he had the good luck to come across his owners again; and what a big fool he had been to get into such a mess.

John, however, was not by any means a fool, but on the contrary, a plain, sensible, honest, straightforward seaman. He found he had got into a difficulty, and determined, forthwith, to do his best to get out of it. Observing the General to pause, he at once said,

"Sir, your honor has received me like a gentleman, and I am not afeared but that your honor will treat me throughout this unfortunate affair as such. I have fallen into a trap, as it were, and lost my ship. That is to me a great misfortune. My coming in here, your honor says, has been a god-send to you, seeing that your garrison was hard up for bread; worse luck, as your honor must know, that for me, for having relieved you. However, as I was agoing to say, that can 't be helped now, 'cause 'tis done. But your honor, the Eliza is n't a man-of-war, nor be we fighting men; so I do

The skipper's pathetic appeal on behalf of himself and copartners in durance, was here brought to a stand still by the sudden starting of the General, whose countenance depicted rather a ludicrous conjumble of astonishment, annoyance, and disbelief. The thread of John's discourse was broken; he was put out, and had nothing more to say. Perceiving this, the General, resuming his usually quiet demeanor, replied

Captain Brown, your case is very peculiar; you did not enter Santona with any hostile intent, nevertheless your ship and cargo are prize to this garrison, and your crew, your passengers, and yourself, whether fighting men or not, are prisoners of war. Such is the law, and such the usage of nations. Had your ship been captured at sea, by my privateer, you would all, as a matter of course, been sent to France, trophies; but as you came amongst us unpretendingly, and confidingly, and moreover brought us bread in the time of our need, why, I believe we must act liberally towards you and yours, and allow you to proceed, without further let or hindrance, to your originally intended. port of Santander; merely requiring from you, upon your honor, that you do not serve hostilely against France for the usual period of one year and one day, excepting sooner regularly exchanged. You may quit Santona tomorrow," added the General. "To-day I will send an express to the Commandant at Santander and inform him I have in Santona, lady prisoner of war! Now let us get our breakfast."

a