The Express. — London, England, 1851-02-01 00:00:00

trot led by Charles, in bit ter sullenness of heart, a hi& I aided at Culloden. Lord Mahon tells us explicitly; that it is his opinion that, " had Charles marched pawned, he wou'd have gained the British throne," though I e doub's, of course (bow could he say other-1 w non ?). whether he could have kept it. TLis ise guevioo to the settlement of which there needs ens important element: what are we to consider to have been the real amount of latent Jacobitiam ? Allow that he Ind surprised London before the Duke el Cumberland intercepted him.—though we 'mow that that officer, with an army which contained the flower of those who fought at Fontenoy, started to North ampton inunmiately, to get between him and the city; allow that the third army, forming at Fitchley, lad set yet been organised,—though the proposal flte it was warmly supported by the city—we do not sot bow he meld have achieved any further success th ig g meil war,with himself in an enormous minority. He had bra joined by very few Jacobite gentlemen, and scarcely any neruits among the people ; and he tad a most important and wealthy party against him —thole great Whig families whose watchword was "the lievolatioe." He was of a religion the prase. lon of which in a man aiming at the throne was an imperil:cam to the law of Use land, nine-tenths of ltr peon* and the memories of lour geoeratiors of their fathers. Surely the great mites of a people whose fathers win vender a Christian hero, the soldiers of European prttestantiam, srd who bad changed their dyeaety rather than see that rell . on it suited, wire nut 1111101 to bow down once more to a l'opieb pine. Vstiooe eirecm•tanon show that there was a great deal of Jacobite sentiment in the country, certainly. Long after " the '4;," Johnson said to Boswell a the Hanoverian family is ie.lie here, sir." The doctor himeell use bilged with Jacobitiam, and so was Ofild smith, in his rode way. ManeSeld was a Jacobite in his ycoth—and, if Junin. is to be believed, a pretty enthosiastie ore. Plenty of the descendants of an lire families must have loved the cause ; and a eon proportion of the pedantry of the land loved its pricciphe. But where were the English Jecubites alien Charles was at Drib'? Where were the grandma*. of Browning's "Kentish Sir Byng," who— stood for his Vag, Iliddiag the erop-beaded parliament swiss! There woe • "sentiment" certainly; and now-a days gentlemen bear aria and put griffins on their earn 6—without, however, the least wish to fight foe the reiteration of feudal institutions! They may 1%:101 to preserve their partridges, but would not tona l out to maths' fur the rights of "pit and gallows" over their tenantry. An important power—not easily definable at the time—tor only measoreable at any time—a power more important than the greediness of party or the traditionary feelings of families, was against Charles's attempt. It was what the writ-ra of one school would call the "Marti: mist. tendency " of the age— what is called the spirit cf the age. There e:1,11 a general idea aft( at that, whether Stuart or Honorer bad the beet traditionary right or not—whether wee a " bonnie prince Charlie," end George the Serried a passionate old soldier, who loved Ha nover better than Euplaed, or tot ; yet that George, being here settled, had better be established herr permenentl. England warded peace to work, lei sure to rea d, ad to reform. The old feelings of lop airy and enthaium were worn out. Glasgow was agait et Chutes strongly—a significant fact. It was the dawn of the cawing utilitarianism. A nation who nal beard of Pope's itight diviat of kings to govern wrong, and read with rapture Swift's account of the king dom ut I.illiput MI re not in the humour to @acacia themselves for thu benefit of en adventurous young retinues of long curie and imperfect spelling. This levi•nir accounts fur the iorrila of everybody in the metier; the real enthusiasms was among the moat pp rim and the wildest Highlanders. England of Chailes's defeat with -pleasure, and saw what we moat call his " victims' . executed with 1411111` thing very like satisfaction. l'uarles's vetted, his vio'ory over the ruffian Hawley, at Fa kirk, and dioistrous defeat at Colic den. are well given by Lord Mahon, and do not stip:re detail here. The Duke of Cumberland's conduct after his victory was cer tainly brutal. Ile was • good orthodox soldier, and seems to have marched over the battle-ground like an elephant in an Indian war—working more with him hoofs than his head. Everybody remembers the divine enthuaimm of Flora Macdonald. Charles went through his hardships with real manly fortitude, and it is wits mingled feelings of congratulation and madness that one reads that in Paris ho was received " with a burst of applause at the Opera "—when one semeinbers what kind of much more numerousaudienos —blunt old Balmerino, gentle Kilmarnotk, and the emir tree but bold aid I,ovat had to encounter in his tame on Tower-hill! Lnd Mahon is an industrious historian, with a clear, plessoie style. There is a sneering pauege of inter ions at p. 84, open to censure ; but the sentiment of the entire boa is so manly and generous that nobody would like ►o part from it with any other fftlings thaw respect and admiration. His observation on Loves adopting on the 'colloid Iforact's famous line— hare et decorum est pro 'lstria 'owl, that, " in truth, no man wu ever lees strongly imbued with that sentiment, except primps its writer!" reads like WIC 01 Glbboll ' ll notes. I thank the closeness of his cor.ncetion by family ties with the quartermareugeneral of the Indian army fur hie good fortune. The detachment at last got into mo ,tion, but at a snail-like pace, owing to the encum brance of the pontoon-train, which was continually halting close up. On such an expedition, where a watchful ecemy was to be surprised, silence, or at least the absence of all unnecessary noise, was a first object of desirability; but the camp-followers created the greatest imaginable uproar, and the march I was coadocted amid the most distracting sounds. The efforts of Sir Joseph Thackwell to sup pees this disturbance were quite ineffectual. The division reached the river at 11 a.m. The Cheoab there consisted of bur channels, one beyond the other; the sandbanks dividing the several arm were most insecure, and the river was noted for gild sande. Lieutenant Paton was three hours last attempt to ascertain its capabilities, and El reported that one of the branches was deep, with • shifting bottom. The guns, then could not be dragged through such a stream. Neither were the artillery able to cover the passage of the British infantry, be the bank on the other side was out of MSS of sight and shot. The pontoon train, Mee over, was too short, and therefore uselese, nd the sends were too loose to admit of its bsiag securely fixed. The expedition was a complete failure. Sir Joseph hereupon took counsel with his officers, and as the ford had been found utterly impracticable, it was determined to tzy Wuzeersbad ford, and here the passage was ultimately effected, but not until the troops had been subjected to the severest privations by the utter absence of pee caution which marked the plan of the undertaking. Lord Gough's despatch of Dec. 5 states that the ford of Itunnee-Kban-K.e.Puttun was practicable. Was this just or generous to an old and experienced soldier, who had just demonstrated its impractiza ' hility 7 The figures and despatches now col lected show that Lord Gough sent Sir Joseph 'fbackwell to perform an impossible task. Un fortunately the sin of this despatch does not end kern. After the passage of the Ceenab by Tback well, the enemy sipped almost unmolested. Lord Gough makes this a ground of regret, and leaves it to be supposed that Thackwell was without excuse for tot having throne himself upon the Sikhs. It now ap pears that Lord Gough had peremptorily forbidden Thickeed to engage the enemy before the arrival of Godby's brigade, which did not come isto the field till the enemy h ad begun to withdraw. We are now brought to the disastrous action of Mullin wallah. It will be remembered that the army under Lord Gough reached the village of Coil. lien at mid-day on the 13th of Dec. The General biter drd to attack the enemy on the morrow, thus giving his men the rest they needed, and ordered the camp to be marched out behind Cbillian. The men of the different regiments were in the act of falling oat, when suddenly large bodies of the enemy were descried in a jungle close on their front. Scarcely had the quartermaster's department commenced its operations, when a blaze was men, followed by a loud seport,and shot fell near Lord Gough. Itisnaid that his lordship had been under the influence of unusual ex citemeet all that morning, for he hastily embraced the re' 'lotion of visiting such audacity with immediate punishn.ent. It is even doubted whether he could have deliberately intended to defer the action, as Chouda Omrah offered a ermine encampment, with equal conveniences. The balls which rained in upon the British now afforded proof that the enemy had begun in earnest. The only marks for the British artillery were the lurid flash and smoke of the enemy's guns. The cannonade en both sides bad lasted half an hour, when, the army preserving its original array, and without any saw consultation on the altered state of affairs, orders were brought to Brigadier Campbell to carry the guns in his front at the point of the bayonet. Major-General Gilbert received a like order; Pope was to make a corresponding movement in flank ; and to Thackwell no orders were given. The success of a battle mainly depends on the previously well-con certed plan of operations, but Gough had held no communication with his brigadiers since the previous evening, although the original plan of attack had become impracticable. The difficult nature of the ground, too, rendered a common scheme of operations and effective concentration of energies more absolutely indispensable, for it was everywhere covered with thick, high brushwood, and nothing was more probable than that regiments would loss their dis tance, take a wrong direction, and even mistake friends for foes. In such a position the superior discipline of our army was of no avail; the veriest rabble of an enemy, so long as their hearts were firm, was equal to the best disciplined troops in this wilderness of bush. Nothing can be conceived more reckleos than to hurl a few weak brigades against the fresh and active batteries of the enemy, supported by innu merable infantry, in such a dense jungle. As connected with the much canvassed conduct of Brigadier Pope, and also with the alleged cowardice of the 14th Dragoons, the subjoined passage deserve* to be quo:ed, remembering the writer's intimate knowledge of the scene he describes: CeiLONSL POPS AND SEM 14711 DRAGOONS. The ofbea commanding the cavalry of Um right, LisuL- Pope, was an odic rof native cavalry. He had sensed a high reputation for personal courage in his younger days, bet pfteemed no great knowledge of the art ut war. He knew little about handbag Isere bodies of cavalry, and was suffer ing from such Wally infirmity as to be incapable of mount- Mg his horse without assmtatice. That Ibis unfortunate *dicer (we say unfortunate, banes hi wan in bad health) should hay* been selected to command a brigade of cavalry, assaisting of four regiments, two of which were British =I:, reflects some discredit on Lord Gough and his This ill fated man, who was only a lieutenant colonel, found himself most unexpectedly in the important position of commander of the second cavalry brigade ,• whilst his seniors, such active,experienced, and distinguished officers as, Col. John . Scott, of the Nth Lancers were left use isployed, to lade away in the solitude of a district cantonment in the rear. It should be borne in mind that the 9th Royal Lan- PM formed one of the regiments in Pope's brigade. The ppointment of Lieut.-Colonel Pope was not only a rearm non apes Colossi Scott, but slot upon the cavalry of her Ma jesty's army. Whew this of of native cavalry received orders to advance, he actually moved the four cavalry regi ments is line without any support. Those four regusteau were, however, seism bar squadrons, which bad been detached to tie right, to thwart all attempts of the mealy to turn our flank and penetrate to the rear. Amidst the perplexing intricacies of the jungle, Colonel Pope not only overlapped the troops of horse artillery posted between him and Sir Walter Odbert's division, bat even gut in (rent of Sir Gilbert himself. When the kern artillery became destrou of opening firs on the Sikhs, they found in the cavalry ea anezeected (Meow:time ; but Major Chris. tie had scarcely expreosed astonishment at this un toward and provoking event, whoa he discovered that this British horse were in retreat and coming down on his guns [ with ungovernable impetuosity. It appears, that whilst [ advancing, Brigadier Pope was severely wounded, having sustained • sword cut on the head. The lose of their leader, the absence of any order to charge (it must be remembered that thiy were movie, at a walk), the disorder created by the trees and bushes, and the appeararce of several Goer churns in the front must account In, what followed. Some how or other a halt took place, originating most probably in Pope's own regiment, the 6th h t Cavalry , Cavalry, in conse quence of their colonel being wo The Sikh cavalry sinnalatied in front, being emboldmed by the knits tees of the British line. About this time the seder, "three's about," was distinctly heard by tome men of the 141 D:age4se. They turned with the rest; the Ovarthanas te hot perm& It may be remasked, they the han kg of we rasp= was sufficient in the jangle te eemeina Ile arseteis stoves:teat at the whole brigade. When • kiely ef wary advances in line it sheald be rega• lord by its seer% the right of the 14. h. If the two men arm Whiled es assomperri their movement with the loud of command, the mischief would be more certain. Whoa the beck is emu tamed to a panning enemy it is not leiter ea the road. la the impetuosity of the so 14th were pissed by the other raeiments against ilsolgsap ef Wes smillery. Ease, gunners, d waggons POPS amber spew To crows she rainy the Gnor ilEs=s wing SIM in the rear el Oa diagons, entered ith el the m y with thrs. liegkseat was sow triltratirt-11.1:b. 01 • 1 •11 itseyer—ellser arra. Isms berms onersto Aswan*. tbsirsiirs es the refs el the baggage arm ere tre was rases is rove. mots =Wit be soar this dietigoatiss el a tit Two kw Goorchanse in penult were =l e y esifiensil imaginations of the fugitives intro Whir* saws gui peat suggested fossil to all. thee NMI as the following extract describe, ought W r pied as fully as parfait Wore the public : • INPAIMASION OP VILOI/11. As rem diatoms from this brigade, ow a line with it, Wthe ill-fated miens et the impetuous Peanyeulek. isibire will stead to the elms of English history to frebeteg warming ram ! ovwfwerie; confidence sad' sigglor of one's Gamy. IklieGist Alex =dr Penny *Skims se brays sad:ardent a eddies r ever lived. In talliVaiberever he in lie foot, the Wats,- is - applasse maimed which must be addressed to Sir Colin Campbell and to Lord (Loeb. Io this matter for reprehension Peneyeuiek wee not prominently implicated. One party declared that the thief ordered that the batteries should be immediately stormed with the bponet, thereby implying the als seam of all necessity for the lam of guns. The other reports that the only order given was to advance, and that no general of division banished with artillery ever went into action without. We do not under take to esy meted the elect nature of the ord.r was, but it is vary manifest that neither the brigadier general nor his brigadiers regarded the artillery as nemseary ; La other words, the contempt of the enemy was not confined to poor Peanyeuiek. The 24th Foot was composed of young men, and went into action with higher spirits and numerically stronger than any other corps of the army. It had not gone far before the gesture of Lieut.. col. Brookes, who was waving his sword over his head, summed the attention of the men. Tney understood it to be a signal to double, and era.equently increased their speed. Their distance from the Shale . gone at that moment was upwards of six hundred yards. They soon outran their native comrades, who, at the best, bet 'ballad along in English leather shoes with which they are supplied. The Stabs redoubled their fire, and it fell to the lut of this gallant regiment te ex peri, nee en atmosphere solely compounded of fire, grape,' and round shot. To counteract all this there was no artil lery and no fire of musketry, for the men were unloaded. So estraordioary, indeed, was the infatuation of the gallant Psanycuick and Brookes, that they sent out skirmishes* without ordering them to load. These unfortunate man, dispersed through the jungle, helpless, fell an easy prey to hidden Sikhs. The regiment armed breathless at the guns, and had commenced the work of spiking them, when sud denly some regiments of the Iluanou force which were eon 'valid in the brushwood, opened a musket ry fire with such rapidity and precision, that them ill-fated men, al ready disordered by the brushwood and their hasty advance, were seised with panic and fled. Now a herbal massacre was enacted. The Sikh cavalry premed close on the terror stricken fugitives, backing to pieces all the wounded. Small wits occasioally rallied, and o..rpies lying together in email diviaions might be maim the morrow ; but oil endenvoure to present a formidable hoot to the enemy were unavailing. Tnere were no . Seers. Pennyeuiek and his eon, both officers of the 24th, fell just as they reached the guns. • • • Nothing could emceed the ferocity of the enemy. They showed no quarter, and were no determined on inflicting death that they often gave twenty blows with their sharp tulwars to one man. The senior major, Paynter, was shot through the lungs, but his horse carted him out of danger." con.: siluti liar. By E. J. THACIMILL. Broth y. It might be supposed that, while armies were found to light, and Datums to pay for, great battles, there would be co lack of histormas ready to describe at once their progress acd celebrate their issue. Yet two years hate eloper(' since the termination of that great and memorable oampsign which began with the motion of Itemnueger and ended with the victory of Goozerat and the annexation of the Petojaub, and only within three few days has anything like a broad view of its metes been given to the world. The explanatioct to he found to the one one word " Chilhanerallsh," that great disaster in which two thousand five hundred British subiects lost their lives, or dropped blood, and where six British guns were numbered with the Sikh ordoacee. Mr. 'Rockwell, as aide-de-camp to that old ital , roar, On. Sir Josh, Thackwell,:second in coommasd in th iscampeign,en joy ed fineopprt unities of and judging of the manner in which it was c c = and ha, here placed the result of his experience before the public in a very straightforward and intelligible style. The causes and general purposes of the suc cession of battles he describes are too familiar to every reader to need recapitulation here; we proceed, therefore, at once to gather up what information the writer can give on then points which most chal lnged criticism at the time of their occurrence. We contemn with the passage of the Chenab. On the 20th of November a thick cloud of dust on the Lahore-road announced the approach of a coasider sble Shales force. The Chenab lay in front, and the selection of a ford which would offer no formida bly obstacle to the passage of the detachment became a matter of the first importance. The sacrum or failure of the enterprise depended on the Ileasthiloy of the ford chosen. Lord Gough was to time his own movements from the hour on which the detachment might be enabled to WON the river. The sluartereosater-uenersl, whom business it was to make the survey, was unable, from sickness, to make an bepection in person. The duty was intrusted to subordinates, who were prevented, by the nature of the stream and the proximity of the enemy, from as quiring a minute knowledge of the capabilities of the Their report was expressed with mush deabt, but the bias was in favour of the prableaMittp of ituunet-Ilhan-liee-puttun. On tab espert Lord Gough resolved to act, daisies* es it was in detail. His lordship hal sabriarat come to regret that this money WY 11114 made by the highest authorities, and with use slaalearsa Bu Joseph Thackwell was milessil tessmsilisd the Iwo which was to effect the pow at the eelocts4 *fi e and march down apse the IQ latiebiemate. Joseph suggested the dobatbaus of ineeelke Wu:combed ford in thermal et the Int bsleg hied Impracticable. No magla were to aoserapasy the bra the lm = Sosertkiskes formed ea bitswelleabb Km Th e ma- Smogs (Webs beeps wee di tweet, a.m., ea Den ayhiess _bee two Is— It will have been seen from the foregoing extracts that the first opinions formed by the greater portion of the press on Lord Gough's want of conduct in the last Slab war, are confirmed by Major Thackwell's testimony. The noisy plaudits of his lordship's friends which were heard upon his return to England have died away, and the still small voice of history again condemns the costly and cruel recklessness of Chil hanwallah. The evil exposed in the subjoined para graph is, it is to be feared, too common to he impaled to Lord (lough as a peculiar fault. MAMMY *Olin FUR VALOtta. In this pursuit (alter the battle of Go jerat) to full of instruction to the army, innumerable Siete fell an easy sacrifice to British vengeance. Some persons declared that if the cavalry has bivonseked for the eight on their halting ground, and been permitted to continue the pursuit early the following morning, few Sikbs and no gun. could have re-crossed the river Jhelum. Toe tedious journey to Pestia ' war might thus have been averted, and much expenditure eaved to the government. But whether this error of judg meat was intentionally committed by his Excellency was difficult to aaae,tain, they said. Whispers prevailed in cer tain quarter. that it was eagerly expected by certain high individuals that the enemy would make another stand, and thus considerably augment the harvest of laurels to be reaped. It is a notorious fact that Lord Clough is the per sonal friend of Sir Walter Gilbert ; therelore, he naturally telt a great anxiety to tarnish him with an opporttinil of reaching a higher step than he had already attaineo. . . . . . Now, as Bir J. Theckwell had estsblialted his claim to this distinction (the Grand Cross of the Bath) by gaining the victory of Suooolapore over Bane Bing and the rebel army, it seamed only right that that excellent soldier, Gdben, should be provided with a similar chance of &vile. leg renowe.; In the course of hie advice, Major Tbackwell has re peated occasion to reprehend the attempt to raise native dragoon regiments. The only use derived from the Light Cavalry of India by the East India Company is the splendid patronage it presents. Ot the irregular cavalry he speaks in the highest terms. The natives cannot trust our sword in conflict with the Sikh tulwar—a broader, heavier, sharper weapon than the one called "a regulation sword," a thing useful chit fly for saluting. The result of this want of confidence in the light horseman's most needed weapon is that the native dragoon is driven to depend on his pistols, which are of no permanent use in close quarters. The author would give the broad-backed curved weapon of ladle to all the native horse. One i xtract will conclude oar illustrations of this in structive book. BIKE YODI OF PIOEITING. In this action (Goojerst) as well aa at Chillianwallah, the Sikhs caught hold of the bayonets of their assailants with their left hands. and closing with their adversary dealt furious sword blows with their right. Tile circumstance slope will suffice to show the rue courage of the men. It may be doubted by many thet one Sikh foot soldier repulse,: three lancers at Coililanwallah, but such is stated to be the tact. He received the thrust of the lance on hie shield end rushing under cut at the lancer or snivered the lance into atoms with his talwar. _ The propensity of the Sikhs to aim their blows at the back of the bead, was so unequivocally manifested on the 22nd of Navember, that it became an object of consideration to the officers of the army to provide some defor.ca for the precious rapid. Some officers wrapped rob of linen cloth round the back of toe shako, tie folds of which hung down their backs, affording some protection. The officers of the head gusher's staff imitated the example of the commauder-in onief, who carried a heed phree made et leather partly re sembling • helmet, partly like a jockey cap. The leather edge hangiog down behind from many of these fantastic cops, gees them the appearance of those hats peculiar to the fraternity of coalb . The cep was surmounted by a white linen cover, forming • defence against the solar rays. IP6I, cr the Adv. - Mares of Mr. and Mrs Sancibos and Family, wAo came up to London to olio, themselves an d to see the Great L'.Shtbttton. By Benny lainTuaw. Illustrated by George Uruinsbank. Bogue. It would appear that the world has come to the conclusion that every question, even the gravest, has its comic aspect. 53 due y Smith recommended his serious arguments with pleasant allusions to "cold missionaries" lying upon the sideboard at a New Zealand feast, with descriptions of charity children on their way to church full of catechism and bread and butter;" and with countless epigrams. He com bined the judicial faculty with the rare art of pro nouncing his judgment in the most pleasant and attractive style. It is not often that a writer is found who combines judgment with a keen wit and an ex quisite humour. Indeed, the abounding spirits, the quick and subtle imagination which are generally the characteristics of a witty and humourous writer, would appear to argue at once the absence of that even flood of reason which we generally take to be the conduct of the judicial mind. Yet instances occur where these faculties have been united in one man; where the wisdom has given au edge to the wit, and the wit has recommended the wisdom. The writer of the adventures of Mr. Sandboys has heretofore put forward claims to rank as a writer of judgment; he now in these pages steps out to ask rank also as a descriptive artist and a humorist. He who recently came forward as a grave statist, presents himself as the caricaturist of the Great Exhibition. Some will have • difficulty in re ea:oiling the two characters; but with this difiloulty we do not sow pretend to deal. Those wlio remember Mr. Mayhew as one of the authoesot " The' Greatest Plague of Life," will be fully prepared for the first part of the work which he has just lamed. The popularity of his former serial was due to its decided originality, to its abundant humour, and to its truth to life. It was full of fun, marred occa sionally by a coarseness of expression which, happily, there is little trace of in the work before as. Here and there his descriptions are too literal; a fault which mars, in literature as in art, the most powerful mastery of material—leaving nothing to the imagina tion; but, even with this drawback, Mr. Mayhew's pic tures are often admirable. Here is a description of the village of Buttermere, the residence of his new heroes : A CIMIZAIAND TILLAOI. Central between the waters, and nettling in its mountains, UN the We valve of Butternierr, line a babe in its mother's lap. Scarce half • doses house huddled together like sheep for mutual shelter from the sans, make up the humble mountain home. Oa sack side, is straggling order, perched up in the hill-aide nooks, the other dwelling, group them- Worn about it. la the maize stand, the unpretending village lan. Behind it eftweek the rich, month, and velvety mea dows, spotted whined wattle, and looking doubly green and soft and level, hem the lugged, !mown, and barren moan. tabu Met rise &hemp upon thin. To stead in these S, Ids, separating as they. ehe the twin waters, is, as it were. to plant the foot epee the NM lake, end Nam to float upon some verdant rift . Wit libe seek, frosting tba humble isu.stande sideways the mug dart oral? than the milled cot tony. with Ma eye belli le y Wry trowalag its .. gabla sae, eni b o om by the f Imamate that thews • 't the . „ _ ______ __ __ _ ...__. wog a. ~ alma% ea.....__ _ ...ems throur ia t 11 ; 011164 time, liaviii Mn losei r a tibe im iiiiith;itiee M e in. But it mad be , - got Is Si atiaili7l‘ legidlog pus - sob le, die bill so vitae loot it roots. Illooropotost. As winnowed smis bays per Wile bk lognm) 1 of as "on equerili Waif fa II" abase ii "IN has "ad ' i l i al ls i a: war " tki iwil. I 'sated this mistake, Mita e n mom ot several occoiloss tot bin to meat the monsy st aa steads tot Sr. coy with too Oleo, their roots root with Si o =odillos toga um, os t i lt= l dons of war. His brigade, as "Was lisages% th e 4the of th ere 'seethe km% t a imr , dit sad gas clutddndlitsg. witarart say to trAtit it, _bat iffy tbs shade with all smart doom: Baas &Hafts etas the 1 d the divilikli Vas a you, stripy woo had to attodwel to it la Ow loodigrosol Is a gouda' espy brook width kudos tataitig mad the biWsr el stone that intercept its souse stands the other end Mill mere hamble ben. half clad in ivy, end hiding the blank arch through which the mountain " beck," white with foam, comes dashing round the torn. Is the village rood, for reset there is none, not a creature is to be aeon, save where a few brown or mottled "abort horns" strsg: le up from the meadows—now stopping to stare vacantly about them, now capering purposeless with uplifted tails, or butting fcaliceome at each other ; then marchuag to the brook, end stane.ing knee-deep in the scurrying waters, with their brown heads beat down to drink, end the rapid current curling white around their lege, while others go leaping through the stream, splashing the waters la transpa rent sheets about them. Not a fowl ts to be wen scratching at the soil, nor duck waddling pompously towards the dream. Not eves a 'troy dog crosses the roadway, nukes it be ou the Bundsy, and this every peasant or farmer who amends the road hoe his sharp-nosed, sham sheepdog following at his heels, sad vying with his master at the eojoymens of their mutual holiday. Here too, Giulia's, may bonen° some aged dame, with large white cap, and bright red kerchief pinned across her bosom, stooping to dip her pail into the brook; while, over the bridge, just showing above the eopiogutone appeals the grey coated farmer, with drab hat, and mounted on his shaggy crown pony, on his way to the neighbouring market. Here, too, the visitor may, sometimes, see the tannen*wives:grouped outside one of the homestead gates— witching their little lasers set forth on their five-mile pilgrimage to school, their baskets filled with their week's provisions hanging on their arms, and the hoods of their blue-grey cloaks dancing as they skip playfully along, thoughtless of the six day a' absence or mountain road before them. At other times, some good-wile, or ruddy servant girl, sallies briskly from the neighbouring farm, and dodges 'arose the road the truant pig that has dashed boldly from the midden. Anon, climbing the mountain side, minters some low-built empty cart, with whits horse, and grey coated carter, now, as it winds up the road, hidden by the chuck, now disappearing is the circling of the path behind the slope, then seen high above the little belfry, and hanging, as it were, by the hill side, u the carter pauses to talk with the pedlar, wno, half-out led in his pack, descends the moun tain on his way to the village. Than, again ascending, goes the cart, higher and higher, till it reach the highest platform, to vanish behind the mountain altogether from the eight. I for them months, every season, after Boater. Till then he had his house full. He was, therefore, very glai to have mom one who took all the trouble of writing letters sod notes, ordering dinner, and paying the household bills for him. W►on Eliza grew up, Sir Roger was very fond of her. She was no announce to him ; far she had tact enough to see when s►e was in his war. And u she inherited his love for horses sad dogs, he was charmed to have her with him; and was delighted when he law her taking her own horse to water, or curryoombing it herself. Oaa of the stablemen was overheard whispering to another, " I say, Jim, what a pity that 'ere gal @bold be a young lady,—quite • heady groom is spoilt in her ! Miss would look well in a joekercap and leathers." Young ladies are little aware to what remarks they subject themselves, when they go out of their own sphere of dodge. Sir Roger, who heard what was said, had the extremely bad taste to feel flattered for kis daughter, and actually gave the saucy lad half-a-crown for his discrimination The title of the work describes its outline. Mr. Sandboys and his family, primitive natives of But termere, have a dread of Londoners , entertaining a firm bel ief that beyond the mountains which encom pans their native village the world is peopled by savages. This beltef determines Mr. Sandboys not to go to London to eee the Great Exhibition with big neighbours. The description of the departure of the members of the Battermere Travelling Club for Lon don is clever. Servants, dreams, religion, politics, novel-writing, and children, come in for a share of notice, and same of the touches are evidently from the life. As a concluding specimen of the volumes we may take DRUMM= OP THE TR&VILLINO CLUB. Emig the next morning, Mn Bsudboye, with Jobby and &ley, went down to ins Fah Inn, to see the &nen meta ann cars lease, with the united villagers of Buttarmere, for the "Travellers' Train" at Cdchermouth. There was the mat wart Daniel Fleming, of the White Howe, mounted on his horse ' with Lis wile, her baby in her arms, and the children, with the farm maid, in the cut—his two men trudging by its side. There was John Clark, of Wilkinsyke, the farmer and statesman, with his black-haired sons, Isaac and Johnny, while Richard rode the piebald pony ; and Joseph and his wife, with little Grecs, and their roey•ebeeked maid, Susannah, from the Flan Inn, sat in thecae, kept at other times for the accommodation of their visitor,. Alter them came Isaac lf,wman, of the Croft, the ri.d-laced farmer-constable, with his fine, tall, flaxen, Saxon family about him; and, follow ing in tits wake, his Roman-nosed nephew John, the host of " The Victoria," with hie brisk, busting wife on his arm. Then came handsome old John Lancaster, seventy years of age, and as straight as the mountain larch, with his wife and his sou, Andrew and Rthart, and their wives. And, fel lowing these, John Branthwaite, el Bowtherbeck, the perish clerk, with his wile and wife's mother; and Edward Nelson, the sheep breeder, of Hateegartb, dressed in his well-known suit of grey, with his buxom gude-wife, and her three buy s and her two girls by her side ; while the freelf-ooloured bonnie lassie, her maid, Betty Clatesgasth, of Clatetguth, in her bright green dress and pink ribbons, strutted along in their wake. Then came the Riggs ; James Rigg, the miner, of Scots Tuft, who had come over from his work at Chafer for the special holiday ; and there ware his wife and young boys, and Jaye Rasg, the widow, and her daughter May Ann the grey-eyed beauty of Buttermere, in her jaunty jacket-waited dress ; with her swarthy,black-whiskered,Cel tic brother, and his pleasant-faced Saxon wife carrying their chuboy-theeked child; and behind them came Ann Rigg, the slater's widow, from Craig-house, with her boys and little girl ; and, leaning on their shoulders, the eighty-years old, white-haired Braithwaite Rigg and his venerable dame.; and close upon them was seen old Rowley Lightfoot, his wife, and eon John. Squire Jobeon's man walked beside the car from tho Fob Inn, talking to the tidy, clean, old housekeeper of Woodhouse; while the squire himself rode in the rear, proud and happy as he marshalled the merry little baud along ; fur, truth to say, it would hare been difficult to find in any other part of England so much manliness and so much rustic beauty centred is so smell a spot. ♦ NITERIRT ♦NZODOTI. The little Pontera;l;;laOartWwhovras extremely ill tempered, but by far too expert in her avocations to be dis missed on that account. Her ways were various for tearing them. She wood not glee them what they asked for till there had been a regular storm about it ; and oat day, when she was more pertinacious In her refusal then usual, one of the little wonden said, " Nurse, what am Ito do more be ' fore you give me that cake ? —I have both kicked and cried ' for it ?" The logic was perfect, and the cake was immedi• ately given. One boy, when told to be patient, and take example by Job, answered candidly, " I do know Job very well. He was a nasty, disagreeable old man! I do not ' went to be the least like him. &LIM from Italian Life. By L. Merlotti. Newby. The compositions brought together in this volume Ire perhaps as diverse in style and structure as ever met under a common title. Two are strict soliloquies; some are pictures of rural life or natural scenery, and others are altogether of biographical interest. Above this formal discrepancy there reigns, however, an essential and remarkable unity. The work consists of nine independent scenes, and, with one exception, all are powerful and even terrific representations of the gloomiest side of human experience. The mental anguish, the paroxysm of despair of a young Italian, who, imprisoned in Fort Diamente, at Genoa, com mits suicide from sheer despair of his country; the frenzied recollections of a maniac, whose reason has been unseated by the arts of the priesthood, who have defrauded him of wife, family, and home; the terrible loneliness of a sensitive priest, isolated in the world with which he sympathises, and in a corner of which be dies unknown ; are examples of the subjects which Signor Mariotti has chosen to illustrate with a vividness and pwer rarely to be found. This pen chant for the terrible has somewhat mastered the writer's preferences for the real, and led him beyond the bounds of the Italy or the life which he under took to pourtray. Unquiet spirits return to re animate the flesh in the stillness of night ; the dead are recalled from sleep by strange arts, and impri soned souls moan from beneath the sod in these tales, bat it needed not the German mottos prefixed by Signor Merlotti to his sketches, to indicate the reading which has suggested those supernatural horrors. 01 the political narratives, the first, that of Jacopo Ruffini, is a masterpiece of bold delineation. The story of Montoreno, a Byronic spirit, who by acci dent becomes a monk of St. Bernard, but, escaping at the news of the Lombard insurrection, turns soldier, and dies in the hour of the victory of Goito, is dis tinguished by great power. Between these dread realities of individual experience, and the ghost stories, stands the tale of Marcella . Its heroine is a lively peasant girl, whose faith in the village tradi tions of ghosts and night-walkers has been shaken by the conversation of a young student to whom she is attached. One evening, in the midst of the village throng, and while an old campaigner is relating the manner, time, and place in which a ghost appeared to him, Marcella avowed her scepticism, and when the habitual reappearance of a buried robber was quoted against her, she offered to go alone et midnight and plant her spindle in his grave. The issue of this rash undertaking is thus presented: The doleful and solitary condition of the Sandboys, l after the departure of their neighbours, breaks the paternal determination at last, end the put concludes with the intelligence that we shalt find the Sandboys on their way to in the March number. Mr. Cruickshank's drawing of " All the World going to see the Great Exhibition of 1851," is one of those masterly sketches in which he outstrips every other modern illustrator. Its wondrous minuteness is as astonishing as its general effect is artistic and powerful. their intangibility gives them over mere flesh and blood, but must needs h►ve recourse to the ungenerous stratagem of as assault from behind. Sketches of Character. Br SAND KENNEDY. 2 vols. West/run. These slim, gilt-edged volumes might very justly have been called 0 Sketches of Ladies by One of Themselves," for the books are all about ladies young and ladies old, ladies married and ladies single, whilst the writer of all this is herself a lady relative of the ➢farquis of Ail's. Round about the bevy of females there flutter., it is true, a number of the other sex, but only as subordinates—strictly as subordinates. Husbands seem to be admitted, because husbands are some Low (might]. to a family picture drawn by a female pen ; and then, how could the love-scenes be got over without a young and handsome youth, or the' marriages be brought about without bridegrooms?' Still, some of the husbands are only taken for their money, and others, when chosen for more tender mo tisk s, are sent off to the Houses of Parliament, or some % here el,e, that their spouses may, in their absence, meet and gossip and be happy in their own way. Here is a picture of There was something like uneasy trepidation es she walked round the church-1 breathless supense till she reached the lonely recess. She came in sight at last. The ground was clear. With • oonvulsive grasp she drew forth her spindle. In that very emergency ► loud, rattliog, whizzing noise resounded throufhout the church within. The crazy steeple trembled, as if in labour. Marcella gasped for bre►th. It was only the clock about to strike t►e half hour ! Marcella smiled bitterly. Her recovery from that panto had something hysterically wild. It was a smile of exults_ don sad defiance. Her brave heart had won her t►e vietory I She stood before the solitary grave. The soil wee bare around it. No rain of heaven had power to smooth, no blade of grass was suffered to mantle the turf that weighed on the malefactor's remains! Marcella walked up to that forsaken mound, and laid her hand on the cross. Anxious as she had hitherto been, she could not help tarrying awhile as if to enjoy her triumph. She turned all round, and took a deliberate survey of the place. The back of the church and stvple, and a high fencing wall enclosed it on all sides. "The monk with two heads ! " she exclaimed, with a sneer. "The white lady with blood streaming leeks! ha! ha! ha! Young Valentino, in town, war right, aster all, and the dead asset return With this she stooped hastily down; she drove the spindle deep into the ground, right at the foot of the red cross. As she was rising to depart her dress was caught hold of and dragged forcibly down. She uttered • piercing shriek and suck down insensible. Her cry was heard miles off. The maw beard it from the casement of his bedroom, where he was making ready fee his night's rest, and he crossed himself with pious horror. He did not sleep at all that night, but all his lose and boding apprehension could not inspire him with mirage to go forth to the reset's,. - - - On the morrow, at daybreak only, he summoned some of the stoutest rue•.lte to his side. Spirits, it is a matter of faith et Osinago, have no power ai auist numbers, no piwer by daylight. In a body they hastened to the burial-ground. They found Marcella deep in her swoon, stiffened with cold, lying in • heap on the spot desecrated by her foolhardiness. She had run her spindle through the skirt ut her dress, and pinned it down to the ground. The next extract illustrates the numberless holds which the confessional gives the priesthood upon every part of society, even to placing the structure as well as the direction of families in their power. The speaker in the following soliloquy is a maniac, rendered so by the spectacle which his fevered len. page describes. As she stood up, the eld churcb-clock tolled heavily the Your. It was twelve o'clock—ghost-time all over the world. Marcella stood up, as it that bell had tolled a signal ; she stashed up to the door ; turned round, with a wicked smile, to take her farewell of the notice, who looked at her with very long faces. She panted the threshold, and her footsteps were soon lost in the distance. Outside, the night was bright and tomewhat frosty. The moon bad not yet risen. All the stars twinkled in the firma ment, but there was that slight wintry haziness, which, with out obscuring them, seemed to remove their light and influence millions of miles away from the earth. Not • breath of wind was astir ; or rather,. none fanned the nut brown cheek of the Air', as she hurried breathlessly on, but the loftiest summit of the bare poplar trees were seen to quiver uneasily, and there was that faint moan in the air, which betoken, • consmoti.n in the elements, far away in V.' upper regions. The ground was white with hoar-frost, and a few crisp, dry I cracked underneath her feet. More than once, as the brambles from the hedges caught hold of her trailing garment, did the st.rtled girl impa tiently anathematise her town-made petticoats, sod wish herself clad in the less oumbrousjupon other simpler village'' friend,. She wslked on with admirable steadiness, nevertheless. She looked latently before her, without suffering any of the innumerable, indefinable, Ineffable voices of the night to divert her attention. A smile was on her lips; but it was a dins, dismal smile ; an exaggeration of self-commend and composure ; a putting on • bold fate upon what was, un queettoaably, a very hazardous game. For, be it remembered, poor Marcella's scepticism was of • very recent date. It was the result of petulant assurance rather than well wrought conviction ; the cocfidence of pride, not of considerate valour. All along that walk her spirit was in • flutter of confiictinA emotions. "The dead n return , ' was was the easy doctrine of her young collegian in town ; and we may say, the agreeable manners of the instructor made up for the want of soundness in his arguments. But "The dead live • life everluting," had been, from her childhood upwards, thundered from the pulpit. " Soule are immortal and Oad omnipotent. In his • roommate, WEDDING, AND WEDDED LINI, p o nds are the portals of the grave. Aad may tkey not yawn Sir Roger Macfarlane was one of that old nos of fox• It nits his eternal designs ? butane (a race now, happily ? all but refine.), of whom the and g iee.° P their Prey' wk And may it not be hie pleasure, now, to depart from the Dean of St. Aleph, in his •' F aith aith and Practice of the Church course of nature's laws, to confound • rash girl ' s stubborn or England," says, " The most useless animal in creation is unbelief, and chastise her presumption ?" • gentleman that does anything hut hunt." And as- With these harrowing thoughts to keep her , sternly the creature he bestrides fulfils the unties of exist- Marcella made the beet of her way to the churchyard. eon better than does this heir of eternity. The church of Osinago was not more than three-quiz. Sir Roger had no places of resort to his taste but stables or tars of a mile away from the farm-house. There was a kennels,—no companions but grooms, horses, and dogs. As short cut across the home fields. This led to some extensive he had • charming country house, and a good estate, he had ruins, mantled over by • thin shrubbery, and still thinner been locked upon some years as a matrimonial epee. But lantation of near trees Tt• ,trip ofwoo d lan d even the ladies whoa* propensities were akin to his; bad P —• - ' ul mea g re 'P • alone obstructed the view of the church. Hard by the house given up the hope of being installed u mistress of Bambury- of worship stood the solitary personage' and between the hall, and he was almost forgotten, when the whole neigh. two edifices lay the Campo Santo, or S to, the cone bourhood was put into a ferment by the news that Sir Roger Macfarlane was going to be married, on the 9th of Septent- crated ground where - ber, to Lady Harlot Frenehborough. He had been passing The rude forefathers of the hamlet slept. ' a convivi4 evening with a brother fox hunter, and went The industry of the good pastors had long since encroached into the drawing-room for coffee, with his head fuller of upon the lest resting place of the departed, and a good slice port wine than of wit and Nesse, which indeed was habitual co the churchyard had been converted into • kitchen garden, to him. He seated himself by the pretty, simpering, foolish fenced by a stone wall. Faithful to the honor the Italians Lady Harlot Frenchbor,ugh. The company were talking everywhere evince for the relies of mortality, the rectors of about fits days, smuts' days, and birthdays. Gangue had further intrenched themselves behind several " What day is your birthday, my ,little maiden ?" asked rows of cypress and yew trees, which effectually sunned Sir Roger abruptly of her flattering little ladyship, their windows from the melancholy view beneath, end in- " The 9th of September." creased thus the gloom and desolation of the " city of the " Bed•d ! that is irmethieg to be talked of for a week,— dead." and so is mine; and what do you say to it, my_erretty little The church itself was a crazy old fabric. It dated from asaidea,shaU we make a wedding-day of it ? How old will the time when the Benedictines constituted an industrious you be 1" community, and took the management of their lands upon " Twenty one." themselves. In those remote ages ens of their minor cow " 13eilad I that is something to be talked of for a week. I bison was eetabliahed here; and the wide strewn ruins on shall be forty two—jest double your age. Come, my pretty one side of the churchyard bad owe been their cells and little maiden, give as your whits little paw, and bark an cloisters. Some of their monumental stones, much damaged assent to my !prepaid's. Bedad ! that will be something to by time, were still discernible ; and contrasted rather be talked of fur a week." strangely with the rudely carved croons, red, white, and Her ladyship did as ahe was bid. Sir Roger kissed the black, with which the poorer notice attempted to menthe pretty little paw, as he called it; and, leaning back in his memory of their dead against oblivion. chair, fell fast asleep, snored at his ease the rest of the Altogether the place was as weird and lonely u heart evening, and awoke quite unconscious that he had saddled might desire ; and almost close to the steeple, behind the himself with a wife. church, in a comer by itself, was the dreaded red cross, nader Lady Harlot, however, was not unconscious of It. Her which the remains of the ill-fated Mien, the poacher, had father called early the next morning upon Sir Roger, who, been devoutly deposited. rather than be baulked of a long ride he projected, agreed to Marce ll a had lett the home-fields behind her ; she had everything, and only begged all might be settled without threaded her way across the brushwood with which the his ; and provided Lady Harlot did not tease him, by ex- ruins of the cloisters were overgrown. A broad ditch sepa pecting any species of lovomakisig, he would wet at the rated them from the churchyard, and a narrow plank was chetah door on the 9 th of September. Writing a dug!'" on thrown athenrt kis beaker for a thousand pollen, he begged Lady Harlot A sold shiver ran through the veins as that frail bridge would bay her own wedding neonate ; and, talus( up his swung and quivered beneath her weight. For one instant gloves, bat, and whip, ha wicked my lord good morniog. she reeled right and left; but, by a brave effort, she rico- Then, whistling for his dogs, he strode out of the room, and, vend her balsam and sprang in safety ashore. as he shut the door, muttered, " Boded! that will be some. Here was the battle-field. She cast one look around. tbiognhe talked of for a week." The grand was clear before her. The undulating turf, TM tenspect was 1 M very !gristly. Its top-boob and a heaving with lie ominous mounds, bristling with its hundred haattef Pat the Inilivema appeared, on die 9th of Sep- Grasses, so carefully shut oat out all sides from human view. teatime, at Mu Mara deer. As soon as the seremosy was Itarailla paused : she was alone with the dead. The de over, he asuated his Mae, and galloped about the seantry lay was involuntary. Her heart urged her onwards , but the till dinner time. Lady Hartotleft the church with her father, limbs refused their oaks*. and took Possession of her new abode quite as mush pleased Site fell on her knee. She muttered a requiems, one of as if Sir Roger bad accompanied her. She made lame( them Letts rayon which to the ignorant Catholic convey sequeinted with every pert of her future homes hem the sr woom=s, but to which, keel th e very circumstance, he garret to the cellar , — walked one *Very pale of the Wanda, ameba all the imputes's of a magic sped. She roes with and over the park. She then west to dm** disnar. removal merest. She pressed her head on her heart an d . Sir Rope Nally enjoyed the eight of die MIN r ow*, bade kbe paste: Shs then tack the shortest walk moss the little wow eappppooddse as Mm ; sad they Isom se th roug h "Gees ease." sad reached the threshold of the dumb. Life very smestkly wriabar. Neither at Wen had dem Übe bed as walk round It, her business being in the solitary heart, nada SaltieEVAS, or ' Both meted their otraer =lliad the stespie. degswids =Or susgeolee MlMm. Hers was dues. lie illis glared, is if stsaithily, aver km =solder. That the gad hwalawls of pork open her toilette, and only limed =aid not help. The veseseue el. ber disarm was more her sate girl eeeeeligie eMOar her frocks were baesseing aussrolitlog than the Mee of the meet terrific or sabewst to ker. Iffelltoree never left Buabary-MS diem She felt a who eee9itleS r in fr vhe inhabitants of ha a day; DM be &Wei Left HMS . te go up as town, a • =Ma world woalg isst fa whit tie advantage THE EXPRESS, SATURDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 1, 1851. PRIESTS, WOMEN, AND FAMILIES. "Yet, sir, it was here. On this identical chair she was seated. It was on a summer evening, the thirteenth of July, five years ago. The hide beyond the river were purpled by the beams of the sun setting behind. These lawns and shrubs, and yonder wave bathed in the rich tints of this same ' primula eley. The spires of the town glittered after off, shove the foliage of the grove ; all earth wee silent, even so a bride awed by the approach of the wedding night. " Marina sat languidly in her chair, and 1, fond foul, knelt at her feet. "There had been. yon may imagine, a deal of trash and nonsense spoken on both side.. We were old acknowledged lovers, and her mother's consent was not wanting. "A golden cro.a hank by a black ribbon round her neck. Marina was as pious as she was gentle--purer, holier than the angels of light. . . " Sh; took doe crass from her bosom, kiesed it; then she passed It over my head, and her lips, quivering with love and devotion, rested on mine. It was more than betrothment—it wu a sacrament. The symbol of salvation wu given as a pledge of love. Three days later Marin was forsworn. Three months later, Costantino Anfoui led her to the altar. . . POor Marina! and she sleeps undisturbed ! She bargained with the priest; made her peace, as she fancied, with God. She tonfemsd—took the sacrament on the eve of her wedding. Father Damian, the Jesuit, absAved her, called down lisaven's blessing on her. . _ The shallow hypocrite! as if the Devil could not see through a sophism. Repentance! remission ! and is repara tion forgotten ? You open and close Heaven's gates—you fiends! And this long hour of anguish that tore my heat fibre from fibre, that unseated my reason, that robbed me of God's own blessed air and light, and levelled me with the brutes—will God overlook that! Father Damian°, the meddling, scheming villain! Not two hours ago 1 had my hand on his throat. Ha, ha, ha! wee is safe from the maniac's gripe ? I glided into the cloister, stood on the door of his eel', by his bedside. He also slept. They all sleep! My eyes alone never close —dry, fiery, throbbing incessantly! Damian, the cowled pander! And his worie were holy writ both with mother and daughter :—`. Beware of free thinkers, abandoned libertines, never seen at masa, kneeling to the confessional! Costantina Aufosei is pions and meek Submissive, timorous. What avail loftiness of genius and daring of he art 7 —too often the mere glare of the firebrand of hell!" Well spoken, Sir Priest! Be it even according unto your will ;—anct the the meek, lowly youth is promoted into the seventh heaven of bliu—Muin*'e bosom—and the fire brand is cast into Bedlam! The needy, puny, sneakiog adventurer! The Jt suit's own darling, AoWeu. Father confessor thrusts his own creature into the good graces of mother and daughter. Make room for the pet lamb—the pet lamb of the church! Roma in your house and home, old lady ! Room in your heart and arms, young one !—Lard of all he surreys! The humble shall be exalted _ . Be ft AO. Damian—AnZ not my vengeance on them. below contempt. I stain There are few passages in this volume in which Signor Mariotti has chosen to express a direct and personal opinion upon mere events; one of these ie an appreciation of the characters of two men, each of whom has attracted a lage share of public attention. CHARLES ALBERT AND NAZZINL Charles Albert is dead, and we raay now appreciate the true bearings of his character, and ascertain the glaring inconsistencies of his conduct. lie had high.minded, generous impulses; but • limited understanding; a facile, yielding disposition; he was, above all things, irresolute and uncommunicative ; almost help • Italy swayed by all around him. The errors of his youth, in 1821, must be attributed to infirmity of purpose and inexperience. The cruelties of 1833 find an easy solution in the crafty suggestions of a Jesuitical camarilla, who pointed, and not without reason, to the members of young Italy as the king's own ruthless, per sonal enemies. But his campaigns of Lombardy, but the fight of Novara, were the spontaneous outbursts of his own nature. There, he not only surprised, but widely outstripped his well-meaning advisers. Bad he ever been able to make himself understood, or had the Italians seconded without understanding, nay, even without trusting him, had they accepted his atonement, they would ultimately have learned to acquit him of the fatal past ; to do him justice, in the hour of victory, as they do now, in his grave. But—sad to say ! the blood of Jacopo Ruffini choked him. The man who was, to the last, the king's evil spirit— and the evil spirit of Italy, at Milan, was liuffini's bosom friend in early youth. Ruffini's blood rose indelible between Charles Albert and fdamini.. This latter, who deemed himself entitled to withhold his love and esteem from his fellow•beinge indiscriminatsly— who counted all divergence from his opinion as treason and apostacy, who despaired of men's fitness for liberty, because they wavered in their submission to the dictates of one mind—llezzini—had raised, or affected to raise, a shrine to the memory of hie lost friend—of the only man, he said, from whom he had suffered no diem:Khania:nests no dereliction. fdauini, however, toque that Ma friend died young, and before his own narrow theory of God and the people" had come to maturity. The Year Book of Facts in Science and Art. By JOHN TIMM Bova'. A compendious resume of the discoveries, inven tions, and improvements which mark every hour of this busy age, has become absolutely essential to all who would take part in its progress. Such a compilation is this by Mr. Timbs. The feats of engineering skill, the discoveries of chemistry or astronomy, the extension of natural history and improvements in the useful arts, find here a concise and yet sufficient re cord. The variety of subjects brought together is almost grotesque. Dr. Scoresby's observations on Atlantic waves, and Visot. Serrione's improved button', earthquakes, and egg-heaters, gl ass-pens,and the glacial theory, corns an for common notice, and lend their va rious aids to mark the physical, social, and intellectual advance of the present time. Mr. Timbs announces a special record of the Great Exhibition, to be pub- Salmi about the middle of the year, as as "extra volume of the Great Book of Facts." Tin Pocket Pserago of Great Britain and Ireland. By }leery it. ronter. Bogus. The special recommendations of this peerage are its portable form and accessible price. It does not appear that the editor has sacrificed any essential revisits in fulfilling these two conditions ; whatever is interesting in the origin and history of each family in the peerage is given in a concise form, and the introduction of a personal anecdote often gives addi tional interest to what would otherwise be a dry detail of facts and dates. Although abaronetage is not mentioned in the title, the volume contains a list of all who have attained that dignity in England, as well as another list of honourable permissive' and individuals bearing titles of courtesy. With these advantages, it cannot be doubted that Mr. Forster's will boon= an extensively popular work of reference, and in Its own sphere prove not lean useful than the more portentions work' which have preceded it.