MARSHAL SOULT. IN 1804, Napoleon created eighteen new marshals of France. In 1851, the most celebrated and the sole survivor of them followed his comrades to the tomb, thirty-six years after his last battle, and thirty after the death of his master. One by one, the actors in the great drama of which Waterloo was the catastrophe, have been disappearing from the stage, and now he also, who for many years had been the only Frenchman of note who had played his part in it from its beginning to its close, is gone. It would seem as if, at the commencement of what is plainly a new era, needs were that the old one should entirely pass away. On the 2d December, the blow was struck which made a dictator of Louis Bonaparte, and established a tyranny of new pretorians. A week before, on the 26th November, had taken place the death of the old soldier and statesman, Marshal Soult, with whom seemed to have expired at once the great Revolution and the Consulate, and the Empire, the Restoration and the Revolution of July. Nicolas Jean-de-Dieu Soult was born at St Amans, in the department of the Tarn, in 1769, that climaterical year of the world which, besides him and others that might be mentioned, produced Napoleon, Cuvier, Chateaubriand, Wellington, Canning, and Scott. His father was a country notary; his relations, small farmers or peasants. The lad early showed a restless and even turbulent disposition-so much so, that it soon was evident he would do no good either behind the plough or over parchments. It was therefore resolved to make a soldier of him, and accordingly, in 1785, at the age of sixteen, he entered, as a private, the regiment of royal infanterie. Here he rose to be serjeant. In 1791, he was made second lieutenant of grenadiers in the first battalion of the Upper Rhine, and soon after, by the election of his comrades, captain in the same. As such he served under Hoche and Jourdan in the army of the Moselle, was present at the battle of Kaiserslautern, and distinguished himself at that of Wissemburg. His conduct on this occasion, and in other combats on the frontier, procured him the rank of colonel, and he was attached to the staff. At Fleurus he rallied the troops of Marceau, who had been repulsed, and were in full and disorderly flight, their general himself having lost all self-possession. In 1794, being now brigadiergeneral, he took an active and important part in the operations on the Rhine and the Lahn, more particularly at the battle of Altenkirchen, where he commanded the left wing. The peace of Campo Formio gave to the army of the Rhine that which Soult and men of his age and stamp least desired-a little repose. But the infamous assassination of the French plenipotentiaries having broken off the negotiations of Rastadt, hostilities began anew, and afforded him an opportunity of signalising himself, on the 22d March, 1798, against the Archduke Charles, at the village of Ostroch. He displayed, on this occasion, as much good generalship as he did personal intrepidity. In 1798, Soult was promoted to the rank of general of division; and the following year he made the campaign of Switzerland under Massena, in which he greatly contributed to the successes of Zurich by a bold movement, which prevented the junction of the Austrians with the Russians. The year following, Napoleon returned from Egypt to find the fruits of his former victories in Italy all but lost, little being left except Genoa. In the memorable and cruel defence of that place by Massena, Soult was of all the most conspicuous; and the dashing sorties he made were uniformly fortunate, till at Monte-Creto he received a wound in the leg, was left for dead on the field by his troops, and was made prisoner. The victory of Marengo restored him to liberty; and Massena having spoken of him as a general officer of the highest hope, he was appointed to the chief command in Piedmont, where he succeeded, by measures at once vigorous and prudent, in crushing some dangerous risings of the people. After the rupture of the peace of Amiens, Soult held a high command in the army that was to have invaded Eng 306 17 land, but which did not, although the column at Boulogne Trafalgar, where, according to Napoleon in the 'Moniteur,' is understood to be meant as commemorative of the event. the French lost a few ships in a storm,' having put an end for ever to his fond dream of crossing the Channel, the army collected on the northern shores of France made that wonderful march which ended at Austerlitz as regards victory, and at Vienna as regards aim. Soult, at Austerlitz, commanded the right wing of the French, and displayed military genius of the highest order. On no other occasion, indeed, were his originality and peculiar qualities as a general brought more prominently into action, and placed in a more brilliant light. The dogged obstinacy with which he maintained a doubtful fight for three hours, the discernment with which he saw when the decisive moment was come, and the amazing promptitude with which he seized on it, with the tremendous and final attack he made on the Russians as they were crossing the frozen lake, showed abundantly what his abilities as a great capof battle such compliments as that jealous chief rarely tain were, and extorted from Napoleon himself on the field could bring himself to bestow. lieutenant, you are the first manoeuvrer in the world!' Ask Marshal Soult,' was the reply to some aides-de-camp 'Marshal,' said he to his the battle.' who came for orders; it is Soult who directs and leads pointed governor of that capital. Napoleon authorised On the consequent occupation of Vienna, Soult was aphim to raise for his private purse a contribution of a million of francs (£40,000). He declined doing so, saying that services such as his were not to be paid in gold-a noble feeling, which unfortunately did not long last. As yet, the stern simplicity, the self-denial, and the disinterestedness which distinguished the early soldiers of the republic had not by any means disappeared; and Soult showed on this occasion that he had served under Hoche, and had been the companion of Marceau. We shall presently see how rapidly a change was effected. How could it well be otherwise? When Napoleon was pillaging and plundering on a large scale, it was but natural that his officers should pillage and plunder too, each to the extent of his means; and, though there were not a few honourable exceptions amongst them, Soult was not one of these. His virtue seems to have left him at Vienna. after the victory he, with Bernadotte and Murat, pursued In 1806, Soult commanded the right wing at Jena, and the wreck of the Prussian army under Blucher to the town of which was to involve the unfortunate inhabitants in his of Lübeck. Here Blucher made a stand, the only result own ruin. He was driven out with great loss, and Lübeck was sacked for three days. commands at Pultusk and Eylau. At the latter battle, In the Polish campaign of 1807, Soult had important which was really a drawn one, he advised Napoleon to encamp for the night on the field. This counsel being followed, and the Russians retreating, the honour of that bloody day was secured to the French. Dalmatia. He was now at the culminating point of his After the peace of Tilsit, Soult was created Duke of fortunes as a soldier, for, though he repeatedly afterwards gave proof of the highest military genius, and though he gained not a few brilliant successes, all his efforts were unable to cope with circumstances, and great reverses always followed partial advantages. He was sent into the Peninsula, and there, almost without interruption, he commanded till 1814. son, though he certainly little foresaw that it was from The state of Spain had alarmed Napoleon, and with reathat country should emanate the causes of his final ruin and downfall, and that the war he had there so iniquitously provoked should thenceforth have the effect of paralysing the freedom of all his operations elsewhere. As it was, however, he had sufficient ground for apprehension: there was a British army in the Peninsula, Dupont's division had laid down its arms at Baylen, Joseph had been forced on the scene for a moment: the French were everywhere to leave Madrid. Accordingly Napoleon appeared himself successful, Burgos was taken, Santander occupied, and the Spanish army of Estremadura was routed at Reynosa. On this, Napoleon, flattering himself that all was finished, or nearly so, left Soult to consolidate the conquest, and returned to France. The first thing the Duke of Dalmatia was enjoined to do, was to drive the leopards into the sea.' We need not dwell upon Sir John Moore's disastrous retreat, nor upon the noble way in which the honour of British arms was vindicated at Corunna. We shall only note the fact, that the French claim the battle as a victory, on the ground that the British troops embarked after it, as if the whole object of the retreat had not been to embark, as if the hopes of the French had not been to prevent their embarking, and to force them to a surrender, and as if, in spite of the efforts of the French, the British did not carry their point, and succeed in embarking. We must, however, in justice to Soult, notice the fact, that he very worthily, though, perhaps, there was a little vanity in the matter, raised a monument at Corunna to Sir John Moore's memory. Soult now (1809) entered Portugal, in pursuance of his instructions, and took Oporto, after an immense slaughter of its defenders. Here his ambition began to be busy. The fortunes of Bernadotte and Murat were before his eyes, and he thought that he too might be a king. Nicolas I., he thought, would sound quite as well as Charles-John or Joachim. But his dream was rudely put an end to by Sir Arthur Wellesley. The Douro was crossed-a deed of skill and daring not surpassed during the whole war-in open day, the would-be monarch was surprised in Oporto, and compelled to flee (we use the expression of M. Thiers) into Gallicia, with the loss of his artillery and baggage. Notwithstanding this reverse, Soult was so far from losing the confidence of Napoleon, that he was named by him commander-in-chief of the French armies in Spain, the object of the appointment being to put an end to the jealousy, rivalry, and dissensions which existed among the different generals, who, as regarded military rank, had up to that time been on a footing of equality. Beyond all question, the choice was judicious; and, in his operations against the Spaniards, he justified it by the victory of Ocana in 1809, and his campaigns of the three following years. But his occupation of the sunny Andalusia during that time was disgraced by his exactions and abuse of power. The high principles, of which he had given proof at Vienna, not quite five years before, were now extinct with him, so much so, that he not only tolerated extortion and plunder on the part of his troops, but shamelessly plundered on his own private account, and actually became the greatest pillager in the army. His splendid gallery of paintings by the great Spanish masters remains to this day at once the fruit and evidence of his robberies. We cannot go into details with regard to Soult's movements in the protracted Spanish struggle. To do so would be to write a general history of the whole war. Suffice it to say, that, after the battle of Talavera, he and Ney, at the head of superior forces, compelled Wellington to retreat. The British commander, to cover Lisbon, which was threatened by another force under Massena, retired behind the famous lines of Torres Vedras, of which the French could make nothing. They in their turn retreated; the British followed, and Beresford laid siege to Badajoz. Soult advanced to the relief of the place; and at Albuera was fought that battle, which, if the proportion of the killed and wounded to the number of the combatants be considered, was by far the most murderous of modern times. Soult failed in his object, for the siege was resumed; but Marmont coming up with new forces, the British again recrossed the Tagus. Once more, however, they assumed the offensive, and carried everything before them: Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz fell, the battle of Salamanca was gained; but Burgos made a successful resistance, and Soult's combinations obliged his opponents to fall back for the third, but now for the last, time. But, notwithstanding any momentary gleams of success, the French had in reality lost Spain-the great defeat of Vittoria was at hand. These reverses, however-at least in their full extent, for he himself had been forced to evacuate Andalu-ia-Soult was not to see. After the destruction of the veteran French army in the retreat from Moscow, Napoleon sent for Soult to aid in organising his new levies-a species of service in which the marshal pre-eminently shone. He fought at Lützen and Bautzen, commanding the centre in both battles, the former being a drawn one, and the other yielding a very dearly-bought success. Napoleon now began to be seriously alarmed at the state of affairs in Spain. Wellington was at last receiving some effectual support from the natives, his army was flushed with victory, the south-western frontier of France was all but uncovered. Soult was immediately despatched to the threatened point. In eight days he arrived at Bayonne, which he fortified, and then began a campaign, in which, on both sides, all the resources of tactics and strategy were put forth. But Soult was fighting a desperate and a losing game: he was beaten from position to position, the Pyrenees were crossed, and France was invaded. At Toulouse, he made a last stand, in a position strong by nature, and extremely formidable from the works he had thrown up. He was driven out of it, though only after a terrible combat, in which the assailants suffered much. The French, as is well known, claim this battle as a victory, and, to commemorate it, have erected a monument on the heights. It is an obelisk, and, as regards its materials, a very characteristic thing, being composed of bricks plastered over. When we visited the scene a few years back, the whited surface of the pretended monolith had peeled off in some places, and exposed the real nature of the sorry structure. As to what has been said about Soult's having fought unnecessarily at Toulouse, inasmuch as he was already aware of Napoleon's abdication, we are inclined altogether to acquit him of such an atrocity. His character speaks for itself in the matter; he was of all things and pre-eminently a time-server, and consequently he would have been the last man to have done anything to offend the triumphing Restoration. If proof were wanting otherwise, it would be abundantly found in this, that he immediately became a warm supporter of the Bourbons, that he set on foot the sequestration of the property of the Bonaparte family, and that he even caused to be brought before a court-martial one of his old brethren-in-arms, Excelmans, for having written a warm letter to Murat. As the reward, and as an appreciation of his zeal, Louis XVIII. gave him the command of the 13th military division, and a few months afterwards made him minister of war. But Napoleon returned from Elba. On the 8th March, 1815, Soult, in his official capacity, issued an order of the day, in which his old master was treated as an 'adventurer' and a 'usurper.' In spite, however, of this strong language, the king suspected and dismissed him; nor without reason, for on the 25th Soult presented himself to Napoleon, was received with great favour, was named head of the staff, and in this capacity issued another order of the day, in which the usurping adventurer' became once more the 'great man.' This, however, did not long continue. He fought gallantly at Waterloo; but, as soon as the ruin of the great man' was consummated, he published a memorial in his own justification-a most mean and unworthy document, in which he treated Napoleon with great contempt, and professed towards 'that man' a perfect hatred. His protestations, nevertheless, did not avail him; he was condemned to exile, nor was it till 1819 that he was allowed to return to France, while a year or two more elapsed before his marshal's baton, of which he had been deprived, was restored to him. Under Charles X., Soult, with what we fear must be called his now habitual bypocrisy, assumed a new character. The king, to atone for the sins of his youth, having thrown himself entirely into the hands of the priests, the old soldier, to pay his court, became apparently exceedingly devout. He even went so far as to carry tapers in public processions. All he gained by this, however, was the dignity of peer of France and the order of the Holy Spirit. At length the revolution of July (1830) came, and with it something more satisfactory to his ambition. War was feared; the army (for a French army) was not only numerically weak, but badly organised. Soult's peculiar talents were put in requisition, and he was appointed minister of war in the Laffitte ministry. The old soldier showed he had lost none of his activity, and in a very short time 410,000 men were equipped and well-disciplined. He did not, however, take a prominent part in general politics until Casimir Perier came into power; but his conduct under that minister, and particularly the strong repressive measures he origiginated, or at least sanctioned, opened to him the office of prime minister. On the death of Perier, he became president of the council. The arrestation of the Duchesse de Berri, the Antwerp expedition, the project for fortifying Paris, the laws on associations, the bloody combats in April, 1834, at Lyons and Paris, were the most important events and measures of his term of power. It lasted to nearly the end of 1834. At that period he was obliged to retire before the attacks of the tiers parti, who incessantly eatled for the production of his accounts as minister of war. The marshal suffered considerably in character in this affair, and was held to have been guilty of great extravagance, if not of worse. The flattering reception, however, which he met with in England when, as ambassador extraordinary, he represented France at the coronation of Queen Victoria, had its effect in his own country, and he, for a time at least, recovered all his former popularity. This reception, we may remark in passing, is adduced by Louis Bonaparte, in bis Idees Napoléoniennes,' as a proof of the attachment of the English people to his uncle's system! mittance. This piece of intelligence disheartened me very much, but, as I had so long looked forward to a treat of the kind, I was determined not to leave the neighbourhood of so strange a fraternity without having made an effort to obtain a sight of them. I waited therefore in Troy until Sunday, then, hiring a caleche, drove briskly away to Niskayuna, the nearest Shaker settlement. I believe that a woman, by name Ann Lee, born about the year 1740, and daughter of a Manchester blacksmith, was the founder of the order of Shakers. At the age of thirty, she became subject to most alarming fits, accompanied by terrible contortions of the body and a total derangement of her mental faculties. She believed herself to be the mother of the Messiah, and endowed with the gift of strange tongues. She gave her disciples to understand that she held nightly converse with God (who, she said, had commissioned her to call together his elect from the different parts of the earth), and that all those who rejected her intercession would be lost eternally. Ann Lee furthermore stated that she should never die, but be caught up like Elijah of old to the clouds in a chariot of fire. Manchester, however, was no field for the propagation of these novel doctrines, and in the year 1774 she emigrated to the neighbourhood of Albany, in the state of New York, and, as I have already observed, became the founder of the present community of Shakers. And here, in the course of time (notwithstanding her prediction to the contrary), she died, like other children of Adam. Peace be with her ashes. In 1839, Soult was re-appointed president of the council, There is an old proverb to the effect that nothing, howand the following year was involved with M. Thiers in the ever preposterous, which has once had a mother, will die threatening eastern question. Unlike his colleague, how- for want of a nurse. We see the truth of this adage veriever, he maintained his position, and held office till Sep-fied daily. The Shakers have now become a large and tember, 1815, when he made way for M. Guizot, then foreign important body of people. They hold extensive tracts of i minister. As compensation, he received the honorary land, and occupy many villages. They are very civil, too, title of Marshal-General of France, which had previously and well-behaved; nor are they dependent on their fellowbeen bestowed on only three men-Turenne, Villars, and men (whom they view as heretics) for any one thing, exSaxe. cept toleration-a virtue, by the by, which they themselves do not put in practice. They grow their own corn, spin their own flax, weave their own cloths, build their own houses, and make their own coats, hats, and shoes. Shaker fruits and seeds are held in high estimation, and always find a market. But the Shakers do not marry. If wedded couples join them, they are separated forthwith. They consider that the world is rather overstocked than otherwise with people, and accordingly discountenance (?) anything like a multiplication of the species. From this time Marshal Soult lived in retirement. His great age prevented him taking any part in public affairs after the Revolution of February, though, if we remember rightly, he gave in a formal adhesion to the new crder of things. He died at his chateau of Soultberg, near St Amans, his birth-place. He had been ill for some time, but was thought to be recovering, when an attack of apoplexy carried him off. He was buried in the church of St Amans, in a tomb he had caused to be prepared for himself some years back. In appearance, Soult was on the whole prepossessing. The upper part of his face was good; his forehead, in particular, was very fine. The expression of his thin, pale lips was, however, far from pleasing. It is unnecessary for us to say much in summing up the character of the late marshal. Our readers, we believe, will be enabled to judge of it for themselves from the preending sketch of his life. He was a first-rate soldier, and nothing more. As a statesman, he did little else than follow the suggestions of others. His oratory was wretched: he could not even speak grammar, and his language continually betrayed an uneducated man. As to patriotism, he had none. Principle, too, was unknown to him. He was ever the ready servant of the powers existing for the moment; he was always among the first to desert them when they fell. It would have been well for his fame had his career ended at Waterloo. W. P. S. P. WHITTLINGS FROM THE WEST. BY ABEL LOG. HEAP THE SIXTY-NINTH. I HAD beard a great deal of the sect termed 'Shakers,' and entertained a strong curiosity to see some of them, as well as to witness their so-called religious exercises. I was informed, however, that, in consequence of some people who had visited their place of worship having misconducted themselves, the elders had lately refused everybody ad Anybody may become a Shaker. If he be a mere pauper, no matter, they support him; and if a man of wealth, his riches go into the general fund. Should be afterwards wish to leave the society, he can do so-but naked as he was born. He is lost; nothing can save him. I almost trembled when I arrived at Niskayuna, lest I should be denied admittance. I had been told by a person who was intimate with one of the Shaker ladies, that if I inquired for Aunt Betsy' she would most probably pass me in. I left my horse and caleche at a neighbouring farm, and entering the village with a decent and respectful air, walked straight to the house of meeting. It was empty, but a tali brother presently appeared from an adjoining room, and asked my business. I said that I was an Englishman, and, having heard much of their religious views and modes of worship, wished to learn more of the one, and witness something of the other. He replied that I could not be admitted: it was against the rules. then inquired boldly for Aunt Betsy. Aunt Betsy was at her devotions, but the mention of her name evidently had its effect. Many of your countrymen have misconducted themselves here,' said my grim friend; they have laughed at us.' I shook my head, and frowned. The Shaker said, Sit down here, until I learn the pleasure of the elders,' and he went stealthily away. I put my hat and stick upon one of the benches, and seated myself beside them. A solemn stillness prevailed. I heard the ticking of my watch in my waistcoat-pocket. Anon, my ear caught the fall of distant footsteps, and I thought I was going to be ordered out. I had the magic 1 name of Aunt Betsy again upon my lips, when lo! at an opposite door there entered, in single file, upwards of forty pallid ladies, clad in shrouds. The sudden advent of so many spectres struck a horrible chill to my heart. They walked gravely, on tiptoe, to a row of pegs upon the wall, hung up their bonnets and mantles, and arranged themselves upon some benches at the other end of the building. They then folded their hands on their laps (every Shakeress had a clean towel depending over her right arm), cast their eyes to the ground, and sat mute and motionless as statues. The majority of them were elderly and middle-aged women; but I saw six or eight very handsome young girls among the number, one of whom, having accidentally caught my eye, started as though somebody had stabbed her, and fixed her glance once more on the ground. Soon afterwards the male Shakers made their entrée, and hanging their hats and coats upon an unoccupied party of pegs, took their seats (in shirt sleeves) opposite the ladies. Each brother had his arm tied above the elbow with a black ribbon. His hair was cut close in front, but left to grow behind. The white locks of the old men looked like little cataracts streaming down into their coat collars. Their waistcoats and trousers were of a bluish grey cloth, and they wore high-heeled shoes similar to those patronised by the lovely sisters. For about a quarter of an hour there was a deathlike silence. They were screwing their minds up to a proper pitch of devotional feeling. An old Shaker then stepped forward, and said, 'Brothers and sisters, it is a solemn worship we are about to engage in, and I hope we shall all go through it with becoming decency;' and thereupon about fifteen of the men, arranging themselves against the wall under the hat-pegs, and converting their long lean hands into flappers, beat the air with them, and chanted a doleful chorus, which consisted of a see-saw tune, and the words, 'Law de law de law de law, law de law de law law; law de law de law de law, law de law de law law.' The moment the music had reached a proper climax, all the other men sprang to their feet: the women imitated their example; and, like two hostile armies rushing to the charge, together, chanting loudly the while, the two bodies of fanatics advanced upon each other, but checked themselves at the point of collision, pirouetted cleverly, and retreated, back to back; pirouette againforward-double quick step-back-advance-retire, forty times; then halt on a sudden, and end the manoeuvre by every man and woman jumping a yard into the air, and coming simultaneously down again with a tramp that shakes the building. Recover seats. Hands clasped as before. Eyes down. Take breath. I had the very greatest difficulty in preserving my gravity during this exquisitely grotesque scene, but I knew that, if I allowed a muscle of my face to denote the merriment I felt, four or five of the stoutest Shakers, who were watching me narrowly, would bound forward and drag me instantly to the door. And by degrees my mirth subsidedit changed to pity. I was provoked and disgusted, beyond measure, to see so many decent and elderly people (men with white hair, and women with the wrinkles of sixty summers) thus playing the buffoon, and persuading themselves, as well as endeavouring to persuade others, that an exhibition like the present could be acceptable to Him who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. I can readily believe that the hearts of many of these deluded creatures were really in the work. They were sincere, as far as sincerity could associate itself with such cow-like gambols, and earnestly supposed they were purchasing eternal salvation with the performance. The second saltatory recreation was much like the first, but the time of the music was slower, and the parties went sliding about in a most sly and stealthy manner. Their movements were rather analogous to those of a person who finds himself mounted on skates for the first time. Satan was supposed to be on the prowl among them. After awhile, however, having successfully evaded him, they all broke into a quicker step and sprightlier song. I committed one verse of the latter to paper, and nearly got turned out for it. The words ran as follows:'Strike upon the pleasant lyre To the music of our song; We will sing a joyful song To Mount Zion's king and queen.' In the next dance, the figure changed again, and the air to which they moved was more lively still. It was one of the popular negro melodies, with the time slightly altered. The Shakers now formed themselves into a ring, and (singing and flapping as they went) trotted round as fast as possible one after the other (like the circular hobby-horse in a fair), while the Shakeresses, arranging themselves in another ring, within the former, revolved in an opposite direction. The scene was really pretty, and, as a whole, now put me strongly in mind of one of those artificial Chinese fireworks we see in a phantasmagoria. The words chanted were something to the following effect. They are, like the others, tame and tautological. 'While we walk the golden streets Of the New Jerusalem, Playing on their harps of gold.' The spirit of the present dance, as did each of the previous ones, grew still more brisk and exciting towards the close, and ended in a similar manner, with a flap of extra strength, a caper nearly a yard high, and a deafening tramp, like eighty dragoons dismounting suddenly in a parlour. The principal elder now came forward. He was much flushed, and quite out of breath. He looked complacently around, and said, 'That is well, brothers and sisters, I think our bodies are now fit temples for the Holy Ghost to dwell in;' and having offered up a short extempore prayer, he resumed his seat. A long pause ensued. It was broken by a young Shaker, who advanced, and, opening his Bible, chose a text. The words were these, I will stand when trials and afflictions come.' The preacher had a bad delivery, and a most repulsive nasal twang. His discourse was a clumsy, ungrammatical, unconnected piece of vulgar rhapsody. He strongly advocated the Shaker doctrines, and stated in very plain terms that all those who did not embrace them would be burned everlastingly. Then, glancing toward the seat I occupied, he exhorted me not to tamper with my religious convictions, but enter the true fold at once, and suffer myself to be plucked like a brand from the general conflagration. He bade me beware also of rejecting his present proffers of grace, and going away with a hardened heart and conscience. But still, like an obstinate heretic, I made no sign,' and the young Shaker, after regarding me forbiddingly for several minutes, at length closed the book with a clash, as one who would not be played with, and had shut the gates of mercy for ever against me. I have thus endeavoured to describe much of what I witnessed in the Shaker meeting-house at Niskayuna. Some may perhaps think that I have availed myself too liberally of the traveller's license. But I have not. It would be impossible for me to exaggerate absurdities like these, and there is a great deal that remains untold. I am not anxious to relate it. It is a painful thing to see a respectable-looking young woman place herself in the centre of a large room, and, moved as she believes by the Holy Spirit, with arms extended, whirl round until she becomes almost invisible. It is a still more painful thing to behold men and women, labouring under a similar delusion, rolling promiscuously about upon a hard floor, howling, weeping, groaning, and beating their bosoms, until they grow black in the face. All these piteous spectacles may be witnessed, upon particular feast days of that sect, within the sacred' walls of a Shaker house of worship. I 6 I walked back in a thoughtful mood to the farmhouse near which I had left my horse. He gave a loud neigh as approached, and I had no sooner jumped into the vehicle behind him, than he laid his ears down, and scampered away homeward as fast as his legs could carry him, with the air of an animal that had come there quite against his will, and wished to get as quickly as possible out of a neighbourhood where such strange abominations were practised. ... A day or two after my visit to the Shaker village, I left Troy for New York. I shall not attempt to describe the magnificent scenery of the Hudson. It far exceeded my expectations, and reminded me forcibly of that along the shores of some of our own beautiful English lakes. The sweet villas and rural retirements, too, seen occasionally nestling among its green and romantic heights, are such as, having once caught the traveller's gaze, remain, like 'things of beauty,' a joy for ever' to his imagination. But it was not without a pang that I beheld the spot where the lamented Andre met an ignominious death. I am not, like many people, disposed to think the execution of this gallant and promising young officer a blot upon the fair escutcheon of Washington's fame. An impartial consideration of the circumstances of the affair will fully exculpate that great man from the charge of cruelty that has been preferred against him. Washington was deaf to Andre's request to be shot, because the offence of which he had been guilty deserved superior exposure and punishment. Major Andre well knew that Arnold was a traitora double traitor—and he should not have stooped to hold an instant's parley with so pitiful a character. The end did not sanctify the means. An honourable man should fight with honourable weapons, and to wink at the treachery of another is almost equivalent to playing the traitor one's-self. Andre acted rashly, and few can deny it, though at the same time they will deplore the mistaken zeal that spurred him to the step, and drop a tear at the remembrance of his untimely end. name you will- that quick perception of the great and beautiful, that web woven by the Creator himself, which makes up all the poetry of existence, if you would have the feast complete. What, prithee, is a child to thee, reader? Is it a little troublesome appendage, to be kept out of sight-hurried to the nursery-consigned most speedily to the maid; its petty tales of its little grievances and pleasures aye to be met with a 'hush!' and 'begone?'-fitting comrade art thou then for him that hath not music in his soul.' But if with the eye of philosophy as well as poetry thou lovest to mark the unfoldings of that human bud, destined to bloom in worlds we only dream of, that bed in which lie powers whose maturity may rival or outshine all that have preceded it; and if thou hast bestowed on such study even small attention, one thing must have been obvious, namely, the exceeding predominance of imagination over every other faculty. And though in after years there come to some day-dreams and thoughts in the night watches, very like the rainbow hues which first tinged existence, childhood is more especially the poetical period of life. Then imagination is brightest, and very bright it is; and if it be true that the age of poetry has passed, it is not because human beings are sent into the world with endowments different from those of former ages; or because external knowledge has paralysed the powers on which it depends; or because fact has robbed fancy of one field of delight without offering a hundred equivalents. Far from it. Such a creed confounds the wild phantasma of ignorance, whose vagaries filled the Valhalla of Odin and the Pantheon of Rome with the lofty creations and aspirations of that glorious faculty, which, bestowed by the Deity, finds in truth its most congenial atmosphere. If some sources of enthusiasm have, as the world has grown wiser, passed away, a thousand others have opened. If we no longer look on the rainbow as the bridge of the FRAGMENT OF AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND; WRITTEN AMONG gods, or believe the stars stepping-stones by which men THE HIGHLANDS OF THE HUDSON. Tis a beautiful land; 'tis a glorious one, The richest and loveliest under the sun; With its mountains, as noble, and stately, and high, As ever held gossip with yonder blue sky; With its forests, which stretch all untrodden away, And be sure that, beside such bright fetters as those, I again may set any foot on my own happy shore, To love it the better, and leave it no more. PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION. 'The bounteous providence of Heaven THERE is a book not often found now-a-days in the boudoir of beauty-the 'Pleasures of Imagination;' and there is a class of enjoyments lightly dwelt on by the casuist, even those pleasures whose source is the imagination; things to existence like sunlight to a landscape, making even the barrowed field and the rugged rock beautiful, and giving to stream and flower more peerless loveliness. A good conscience, correct judgment, cool reasoning powers-all these are the substantials of intellect, the roast beef and plum-pudding of the mental banquet; but cast over it that fairy tissue of fancy, imagination, call it what will mount to heaven,* science has shown us, among 'Planets, suns, and adamantine spheres Wheeling unshaken through the void immense,' fields of wonder and delight, where thought pauses astounded and overwhelmed; and where imagination, in her boldest flight, droops her wings and tires, long ere she reaches a limit. Man, then, is born imaginative, enthusiastic as ever, and objects lie around all beautiful and sublime, and vast and surprising in a degree never so great as now; and if this is not the age of poetry, it must be that ultra pains have been taken to crush it in its bud. And this doth childhood confess; and the little lisping tongue that asks for a fairy tale, or the little bright eye that brightens more at the wild bewitching story, which half terrifies while it charms, is but wooing aliment for one of its most noble mental possessions; it is the first flutter of that which, strengthened and regulated, will one day cull treasures from the farthermost ends of creation. Canst thou not recall, reader, stories of the wonderful and impossible, which fell on thy heart so delightfully from some greyhaired narrator-some one in corpus et anima like the tomb of the prophet, worn and dark without, but warm and glowing within? Those fields of the marvellous and mysterious, how charming each wild path! how dear to listen again and again to the same old story, and laugh, and look sad, and wonder for the fortieth time at precisely the same point; joined to the endeavour to picture in thought forms and habitations more perfect and more gorgeous than ever could exist, and to comprehend impossibilities which never could have happened. Perhaps it was the tale of the little white maiden, who was The gods made a bridge between heaven and earth, this was the rainbow. Hemdal was their porter, who watched at one end to prevent the giants climbing up. He had an ear so fine that he conld hear the grass grow in the meadow and the wool on sheep,' &c.-Mallett's Northern Antiq., vol. i. Men who should be enabled by the wings of the Spirit, received in baptism, to mount to heaven by the northern signs of the galaxy, which the philosopher of those times made the ria regia of souls for mounting to their celestial habitations. — Il'alter Moyle, |