centre of the city, lest, by their presence, they should disturb the splendour of the new carnival. Seience has been put into a livery as far as was possible; literature oppressed and monopolised; and that brilliant French "esprit," which held its witty sway during the absolute power of the last century, as well as under the government of the two lines of Bourbons in our day, has been driven out by clumsy parasites, or forced to make way for wretched sophistry. Corruption of the mind, the taste, of literature, of the stage, of officials, even the highest; corruption of the people and of trade; corruption as the system for everything-in the elections, the press, the arts, politics, or diplomacy-omnia venalia!

Now they have got so far as to order the nation and the individual how to think and feel. The enslaved and gagged people is expected to applaud the patriotic plans, to lead its sons to the shambles for the "liberty" of Italy, the "independence" of Moldavia and Wallachia, the civilisation of the Idées Napoléoniennes, and any one of the people who dares to object, although robbed of all public liberty, and placed beneath "laws of security," commits an insult on the sovereign will of the people, personified in the emperor. We do not accuse him of contradiction, for that is essential to the cause known as Napoleonism. He follows the destiny that is attached to his name and position. But that he madly precipitated the crisis, that he forces a development instead of striving to defer it as far as is possible, that is his own personal fault. Since the 14th January, 1858, the Emperor of the French has been changing from the shadow of the first Napoleon into a distorted shadow of Masaniello.

It is possible that Prussia has mobilised her army merely to keep in check the Germans, who are panting for war; and had she not done so, it is more than probable that one of the smaller powers would have dared the lion, and compelled Prussia to come to its assistance. We are thankful, however, even for this slight movement; but, before everything, at the present crisis union is most necessary on the part of Germany. Above all, there should be no neglect of Austrian interests, for that country alone renders Germany compact and strong; and hence we consider that a close union between Austria, Prussia, and Germany is necessary for their mutual salvation. Impressed with all due respect for the Prussian army, and recognition of her military strength, we do not consider she is powerful enough to guarantee the independence of Germany without the energetic aid of Austria. Germany demands, and with a perfect right to do so, that Prussia should give up her vacillating policy, and not merely promise to remember the national interests, but at the same time prove her sincerity by action.

It is useless for Germany to wait for any impulse from without, or to expect that England will come to her aid as she has done before, until compelled. It is very possible that our neutrality may last no length of time; but Germany is too great a country to wait timidly till we say the word. By her present course of action, Germany is committing suicide; for she allows Austria to be assailed in that very part of her possessions where every war intended to humiliate Germany has been commenced. Louis Napoleon is not fighting for the independence of Italy, and the Germans are fully alive to the fact. The question they now have to solve is, whether it is more to their interest for Italy to be under Austrian than under French influence-whether they prefer the natural bulwark of Germany beyond the Alps to be in the hands of their "magnanimous" enemies, or in those of the most powerful federal state? But this is only the first question, regarded chronologically: Mantua is the twin sister of

Mayence, and Cologne the German Rome. If Germany allow her great bulwarks in the south to be destroyed, those on the Rhine will follow, so surely as the sun proceeds from the south to the west-until it sets.

Besides, no one desires that a German army should cross the Alps for the purpose of assisting Austria in the defence of her Italian fortresses. All we say is, that Germany and Prussia should protect her rear, and they are bound to do so by the federative compact. This does not presuppose any special friendship for Austria, but merely a duty which no honest government would hesitate in fulfilling.

But, it will be said, Russia stands in the background, soothing with notes, menacing with armaments, and, as we have reason to believe, bound to Napoleon by self-interest. But we doubt whether the Germans would be disposed to remain passive, merely through fear of Russian interference. France and Russia command Germany to remain quiet: the Italian and the Sclavon are raising the banner of revolution, in order to extend their power beyond its just limits. They enkindle revolt in Northern Italy and Turkey to inflame peoples of Sclavonic and Romanic races against their legitimate rulers, and conceal crafty designs behind proclamations of disinterestedness. Austria, Prussia, and Germany contain a population of 70,000,000. They have in the centre of Europe a total strength of 1,200,000 bayonets, whose word and will combined would decide the fate of the Continent and they are to be frightened and restrained from purely fraternal action-by the threat of 200,000 Russians! The feeling animating the Germans is so fully expressed in the pamphlet to which we recently alluded, that we cannot refrain from one more quotation:

Heaven be thanked! the time for state wisdom is gone: diplomacy has played its last card. The swords are drawn, the armies are unfolding their masses, war is declared, Central Italy is in flames; Cavour, who piled up the inflammatory stuff in his neighbour's house, and threw in the torch at the right moment, was a true prophet. The Frenchman crosses the Alps, hurries over the Mediterranean, summons his armies and African hordes from Algeria, tramps neutrality under foot, and hastens, thirsting for prey, to the first act of the tragedy, which is to lead to the "revision of treaties" and the “ reconstitution of the map of Europe." Austria's armies are drawn up, to fight the good fight for the independence of Europe. And we discuss preparation for war, or mobilisation, while, in the old German imperial city of Lorraine, a French army is already stationed-to observe us? Men of the younger generation, be warned, not of the danger which the traditional foe is preparing for you if you meet it manfully, but of the danger of your own weakness and your separate wisdom. What we neglected in the glorious days of Germany's resurrection, do you bring back. Alsace, Lorraine, the three bishoprics, stolen and torn from the German Empire, the Franche-Comté itself, are the just reward of Germany's new uprising. The hour has arrived to restore the German name to its old honour, and Germany to her former power. If it be neglected -which God forbid !-it will never return again, and contempt will be our lot.

It is quite certain that such an intense war-feeling has not been aroused in Germany since 1813, and that from no abstract desire of fighting, but solely from an instinct of self-defence. Germany, for a marvel, was unanimous in regarding Louis Napoleon as the violator of treaties, and Austria as having the legal right on her side. If Prussia had taken advantage of this feeling at the right moment, this lamentable effusion of blood might have been spared, but it seems as if she were not indisposed to see her powerful rival weakened, and compelled to sue to her

for assistance. It is impossible yet to say what Prussia will do, but, one thing is certain, if she really join in the war, it brings us nearer to the danger. Possessing in Prussia a strong bulwark against Russian aggression, we were enabled to maintain our neutrality without any danger; but if Russia really interfere or menace Germany, we shall be compelled to act energetically and at once. It is very possible that Lord Palmerston may repeat the old platitudes about French disinterestedness, but the nation at large will be enabled to appreciate the motives which actuate two despots when they combine to put down a third.

Looking at the immediate seat of war, we do not consider that Austria has much to complain of hitherto. We stated some three months back our conviction that the French would always defeat the Austrians in a fair fight, and facts have proved the truth of our judgment, but we are certainly agreeably surprised at the stubborn resistance the Austrians offered at Montebello, Magenta, and Melegnano. When we remember that the Emperor of the French has been obliged to employ his best troops on every occasion against the Austrian line battalions, the resistance the latter have shown is most unexpected. The error of Gyulai at Magenta, in neglecting to cut the French off when he had so excellent an opportunity, is the worst feature of the campaign.

Nor are we disposed to regard the hurried retreat on the quadrangle as so disgraceful as some writers have tried to make it out. It simply implies a change of tactics, and strictly defensive operations, while by drawing the Franco-Sardinians further from their base, it renders the commissariat arrangements more complicated. The propriety of withdrawing all detached garrisons so soon as Lombardy was invaded, the Austrians learnt in 1848, when the population rose and cut off a considerable number of men. In all probability, ere these lines see the light, another terrible battle will have been fought on the Mincio, when, if again defeated, the Austrians will finally fall back on their fortresses. It will be a terrible shock of arms: more than 250,000 men will be concentrated, and the battle will be a most obstinate one, for it will be the last struggle Austria will attempt for the present in the field.

Altogether, we are disposed to take a favourable view of the Austrian cause by playing a waiting game she will have many chances in her favour. If the French sit down before such impregnable fortresses as Verona and Mantua, the nation will soon be disgusted at the lack of bulletins, and from disgust to revolution is, as we all know, but one step in France. Flushed by doubtful successes, the French would now immolate the man who dared to speak of peace; but, once the tide of victory is stemmed, they will grow discontented and prone to sedition. At the same time, the feeling of Germany is so thoroughly aroused, and the people so exasperated by commercial stagnation, that they are certain to strike a heavy blow ere long, and we doubt whether Louis Napoleon will make head against them. There is not the slightest prospect of Austria granting him a peace, unless he consent to revert to the status quo. She has made enormous sacrifices, and borne all the burden and heat of the day, to save Europe from the dominion of France, and she knows that public opinion must slowly but surely veer round to her side. It is decidedly unfortunate for Austria that the change of ministry has taken place; for, while Lord Malmesbury was doing his best to ensure the neutrality of England, that very neutrality was most injurious

to Austria's commercial interests, because, having no navy to oppose to that of Napoleon, her mercantile marine was at his mercy: now that we have a premier whose tendencies are avowedly French, our neutrality must necessarily become more onerous to her. But we can hardly consider such a ministry, composed of fortuitous atoms, booked for a long lease of political life; it has the elements of dissolution within itself, and the more the Blue-book is studied, the more will it be seen that the policy of Lord Derby was correct. Individually speaking, we should have preferred an alliance with Austria and Prussia, as a sure preventive of war; but, under the exceptional circumstances in which Lord Malmesbury was placed, we must confess that he acted for the best.

We are of opinion, then, that before we again take up our pen to chronicle the war events of the month, Germany will have proceeded to action, for she has no other resource. We most earnestly hope that the rulers, casting jealousy and separate interests to the winds, will heartily combine and satisfy the just demands of their peoples. If they do not, or allow themselves to be cut off in detail by the French, they will deserve their fate. But we can hardly believe that they will be so blind to the warnings of the past, or that Prussia will act in the same suicidal manner which imperilled her political existence during the empire of the first Napoleon.

But England, too, must not remain deaf to the teaching of history, nor should we let ourselves be trapped by the crafty bait Napoleon has offered to liberalism in the shape of the emancipation of Italy. We must never let it out of sight that the third Napoleon has hitherto followed closely in the footsteps of his uncle, and there is no reason for supposing that he will suddenly deviate from his course. If we, however, submit to that cry of nationalities, behind which he hides his lust of dominion, he will very soon turn that offensive arm upon ourselves.

The despot who engages in war for aggressive purposes is dangerous, but doubly so he who goes to war under the pretext of emancipating down-trodden peoples. To the first we may assign a limit, but the last has no bounds to his ambition. The same frivolous pretext that caused the invasion of Italy would serve equally well for Canada or Ireland. Therefore, we say again, let us put no faith in Louis Napoleon's disinte restedness through the whole of the proceedings, prior to the war, he carried on a system of dissimulation, unpardonable in any but a monarch; and with such facts before us, we may be permitted to doubt his sincerity as to Italy. If we still continue "letting I dare not wait upon I will,” a heavy day of reckoning will be in store for us; all our natural allies will have been coerced into neutrality, and then the real fight will come -that between constitutionalism and despotism.

Not that we doubt as to the result, but we recoil at the thought of the awful bloodshed with which it will be purchased, and feel a bitter regret that England did not step forth to spare such slaughter when she had in her own hands the opportunity for securing the peace of Europe.

Although Lord John is our foreign minister, we doubt whether the premier will let him act. We consider that he is only striving to realise still further Sydney Smith's sarcasm-or, perhaps, he is desirous of another mission to Vienna. Quien sabe?

IT was the height of the London season, and the night sky above was studded with its stars, as the starry beauties of this lower hemisphere were pressing into one of the greatest and most exclusive houses of the day great in its reference to that iron god, fashion, not greater in its size than many another one.

It was the town-house of the Duchess of St. Ives, a wealthy widow, only two-and-forty yet, and beautiful still. She had ruled the world long on her own account, and now she was ruling it in right of her son. It was the first season he had spent in London since coming age, and the world was going mad after him. Mothers courted him openly, daughters covertly: a fine thing it would be to be Duchess of St. Ives.

of

A well-appointed carriage dashed into the ruck, and struggled its way to the door amidst the rest. The Countess of Essington descended from it with daughters three. Three! Yes, the majestic countess, as important in her own eyes, and daring in her own actions, as the Duchess of St. Ives in hers, had brought them all, the ladies Mabel, Geraldine, and Anna Hetley. Mabel and Geraldine were like their mother, commanding, stately girls, with clearly-cut features, beautiful, but cold as though they had been carved from Parian marble. Anna was different; she had nothing of majesty or of marble about her: a fair, graceful girl, with large, shy, merry blue eyes that drooped beneath their long lashes when. gazed into, a flushed, dimpled, lovely face, and a pretty mouth too much given to laughing, and to display unconsciously its set of white pearls.

A moment's respite after the reception, and the countess and her daughters were but so many of the brilliant crowd that thronged the rooms. Lady Anna found herself seated next to a young lady with whom they were on terms of close intimacy.

"Have you come to-night, Anna? Three of you! What an idea!" "There was no help for it," laughed Anna. "This is the ball of balls, you know, and Mabel and Geraldine would not give up their privilege of elders; and mamma did not wish me to remain away, becausebecause

"There; go on to the rest. I understand."

"What can be done?' quoth mamma to us this morning at breakfast: Geraldine, I wish you would, for once, give up to Anna.' 'Oh dear no,' returned Geraldine; 'it's not to be thought of.' 'Then I shall take you all,' said mamma. 'That's not to be thought of,' put in Mabel; 'there never was such a thing heard of.' 'I may do what others would not dare,' concluded mamma, in her lofty way."

"And that is how you are here!"

"I don't know whether she would have brought me in spite of Mabel, who is very positive, you know, in her opinions, and mamma gives in to her. Listen yet. The duke called, and began talking to me about toJuly-VOI.. CXVI. NO. CCCCLXIII.

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