Paris out of a seventeenth; he gives an administration which is effectual and intelligent and neat. But then he spends our money to do it. Every municipality is in debt; obligations are in the market of everybody which can issue obligations; the securities of the City of Paris are so large and so pressing that you are obliged to propose a special law about them which shall postpone their payment. Where is this to end? The Emperor is a great industrial improver, but he is also a great trade speculator; he says that his great outlay will sometime or other bring in great returns, but his rule has now lasted sixteen years; it is time that the incomings should be as conspicuous and as sure as the outgoings, and yet his outlay is as large as ever, but its returns are as in secure as ever." The failure of the Crédit Mobilier has pointed these objections. Every one knows that this great company was patronised by the Government; that it was connected with the Court; that it was helped by influential men. Most people believe that the Emperor is fond of advanced" finance; that he dislikes old-fashioned economy; that he was pleased with the showy theories of M. Pereire; that he more or less sympathised in his aims and helped him in his objects. In consequence, the collapse of the Crédit Mobilier is a heavy debit to the Empire. People say- You said you were going to achieve good and vast things; but everything you have in fact done is either small or unsuccessful.” 66 but ex internally what intelligent Frenchmen most And if the present gives nothing to the French which an ordinary free Government would not give, it plainly takes from them much which such a Government must give. Whatever may happen to the French military power, - and it would certainly seem that in consequence of the rise of Italy and Germany that Power must diminish in comparison, nothing is likely for years to In England we still find persons who happen to France as an intellectual centre. praise the French Empire as a strong Gov- Paris has long been and must long be the ernment, but in France people ask- How intellectual capital of Europe. A word is it strong? What can it do for us?" No spoken or written there re-echoes and redoubt the French system of administration sounds as no other words do or can. Whenhas great merits of symmetry and efficiency; ever there is a free French Parliament, the it really does what it professes; within the speeches of its best orators will be the best, regular round of its prescribed duties it is the most keen, and the most accepted critisure to work well, if you are careful to give cism of European events. The French have it time. But the second Empire did not the gift of effective speech beyond any other create this administration. The first revo- nation, and they have in their central capilution made it possible to create it, and the tal a more effective pulpit than other naFirst Napoleon in consequence founded it; tions. So long as there are no real French the Legitimist Bourbons entered into pos- Chambers, the glory of the best Parliamentsession of it; the Orleanist Bourbons ac-ary eloquence is denied to France. cepted it too; this homogeneous, neat ad- For Parliamentary Government as a daily ministration is part of France, not of the pleasure the French do not care as the EngEmpire of France; it belongs to the per-lish do - perhaps no other nation so cares. manent country; it is not peculiar to the transitory Government. And beyond this clever routine what does the Government do? It tried to give France a great place in Europe, but it left France worse than it was before. It cannot achieve for France To us Parliamentary debate has become by long habit an intellectual necessity, but no other nation has formed the habit, and none other therefore feels the necessity. But a very large class of the French care much for good newspapers; not indeed for news papers in the original sense, for the " news of a French journal is minute and poor, but for discussion in articles on points of policy and on questions of theory. Even controversies between journals, which are to the English unreadable and disagreeable, are to the French attractive and pleasant. They take an interest in such discussion for its own sake; they like to watch how each epigram has its counter epigram, and each argument its counter argument. To deny the French good newspapers is to deny them the part of freedom which they like best, and under the Empire newspapers must always be poor for the press cannot be free. This is, therefore, the sort of feeling which seems to press upon men's minds in France; they say. We sacrifice what we like, but we do not gain what we wish for; we pay the price, but we do not receive the article. We gave up freedom to have power abroad and peace at home. But in fact, we are impotent in foreign matters, and anxious about home matters. Abroad, our rivals gain; at home, a long course of outlay incurs daily more and more debt, but does not insure daily more and more returns. Why should we continue a bargain which takes from us what we prize, but does not bring us what we want? These reasons are doubly strong because of the temperament of those to whom they are addressed. A generation has grown up under the Empire, which remembers nothing else. It does not know the evils of the Republic, or the evils of the Monarchy. It hears a tradition of such things, but does not much heed or understand them. What the present generation feels is the present evil. It is impatient with the dull despotism which restricts thought, and cramps minds, and would be rid of it if it could. Whether it will make a violent effort to be rid of it, and what will be the chances of such an effort, are problems with which on a future occasion we may endeavour to deal. DEATH OF DEAN MILMAN. -The cable dis-"History of Latin Christianity," a continuation patches announce the death of the Very Reverend Henry Hart Milman, Dean of St. Paul's, London, the celebrated author and historian, at the age of seventy-seven. This event is a serious loss to literature, and will be generally regretted. Doctor Milman was the youngest son of Sir Francis Milman, the physician of King George III., and was born at London on the 10th of February, 1791. He was educated at the academy of Dr. Barney, the father of the celebrated Madame D'Arblay, and graduated at Brassmore College, Oxford. In 1815 he published the tragedy of Fazio, which attained considerable celebrity. of the former, and a more elaborate work. He also issued an illustrated edition of Horace, a Life of Keats, and an annotated edition of Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. He was also a frequent contributor to the Quarterly Review. In 1849 he was promoted to the office of Dean of St. Paul's, and held that place till his death. His style was simple, but not destitute of embellishment; and he was one of the most attractive writers on historical subjects living in the present century. N. Y. Eve. Post, 26 Sept. The Interference Theory of Government. By In 1817 he entered holy orders, and became Vicar of St. Mary's parish, in Reading. At this period of his life he appears to have affected poetry, and in due succession published the following works: Semar, Lord of the Bright City, an heroic piece in twelve books, in 1818; Fall of Jerusalem, a dramatic poem, in 1820; Anna Boleyn, the Martyr of Antioch, and Bel- THIS is a vehement protest against the "patershazzar, in 1821. About this time he was ap- nal" system by which a government undertakes pointed Professor of Poetry in the University of to look after the morals of its citizens, and espeOxford, and became also Rector of St. Marga- cially against the Maine Liquor Law. At the ret's. But fortunately for literature he now di- same time, Mr. Bristed proclaims his adherence rected his attention to other subjects. He pub- to free trade. His cry is, " Hands off! No paterlished an octavo volume of sermons as the Bamp-nal interference with personal liberty! No proton Lectures in 1827; and two years afterwards tection! No prohibition!" We do not see that he issued his celebrated "History of the Jews," in contributes much to settle the questions which he three volumes. In 1840 he gave to the press a discusses; and we suspect that he is not on the collection of his poems, followed by the "His-winning side. The Democracy of the future will tory of Christianity" from the birth of Christ probably attempt to organize more than any govto the abolition of Paganism in the Roman Em-ernment has ever done in the past. pire. Fifteen years afterward he published his Spectator. CHAPTER LXVII. A WAYFARER. WHEN the time came for the several members of the family at the villa to set out on the search after evidence, Jack, whose reluctance to leave home he called it "home" increased with every day, induced Cutbill to go in his stead, a change which even Mr. Sedley himself was forced to admit was not detrimental to the public service. sought for. Smarting under the insults and scandal she had been exposed to on the day before, she revealed everything, and signed in due form a procès verbal, drawn up by a notary of the place, of her marriage with Baldassare, the birth of her son Anatole, with the dates of his birth and baptism, and gave up besides some letters which he had written while at the naval school of Genoa. What became of him afterward she knew not, nor indeed seemed to care. The cruelties of the father had poisoned her mind against the son, and she showed no interest in his fate and wished not to hear of him. Cutbill's mission was to Aix, in Savoy, to see and confer with Marie Pracontal, the first wife of Baldassare. He arrived in the nick of time, for only on that same morning Cutbill left Aix on the third day, and had Baldassare himself entered the town, was slowly strolling up the Mont Cenis in his galley-slave uniform, to claim his pass in front of his horses, when he overwife and ask recognition among his fellow- took the very galley-slave he had seen adtownsmen. The house where she lived was dressing the crowd at Aix. "I thought besieged by a crowd, all more or less eager they had sent you over the frontier into in asserting the woman's cause, and de-France, my friend," said Cutbill, accosting nouncing the pretensions of a fellow cov- him like an old acquaintance. ered with crimes, and pronounced dead to "So they did, but I gave them the slip all civil rights. Amid execrations and in- at Catoy, and doubled back. I have busisults, with threats of even worse, Baldas-ness at Rome, and couldn't endure that sare stood on a chair in the street, in the roundabout way by Marseilles." act of addressing the multitude, as Cutbill drew nigh. The imperturbable self-possession, the cool courage of the man- - who dared to brave public opinion in this fashion and demand a hearing for what in reality was nothing but a deliberate insult to the people around him, whose lives he knew, and whose various social derelictions he was familiar with was positively astounding. "I have often thought of you, good people," said he, while at the galleys; and I made a vow to myself that the first act of my escape, if ever I should escape, should be to visit this place and thank you for every great lesson I have learned in life. It was here, in this place, I committed my first theft; it was yonder in that church I first essayed sacrilege. It was you, amiable and gentle people, who gave me four associates who betrayed each other, and who died on the drop or by the guillotine, with a courage worthy of Aix; and it was from you I received that pearl of wives who is now married to a third husband and denies the decent rights of hospitality to her first." This outrage was now unbearable; a rush was made at him, and he fell among the crowd, who had torn him limb from limb but for the intervention of the police, who were driven to defend him with fixed bayo "Will you smoke? may I offer you a cigar?". "My best thanks," said he, touching his cap politely. "They smashed my pipe, those good people down there; like all villagers they resent free speech, but they'd have learned something had they listened to me.' "Perhaps your frankness was excessive." "Ha! you were there, then? Well, it was what Diderot calls self-sacrificing sincerity; but men who travel much, who mix with varied classes of mankind, fall into this habit. In becoming cosmopolitan you lose in politeness." 66 'Signor Baldassare, your conversation interests me much. Will you accept a seat in my carriage over the mountain, and give me the benefit of your society?" "It is I that am honoured, Sir," said he, removing his cap, and bowing low. "There is nothing so distinctively well-bred as the courtesy of a man in your condition to one in mine." But you are no stranger to me." "Indeed! I remarked you called me by my name; but I'm not aware that you know more of me." I can afford to rival your own candor, and confess I know a great deal about you.” "A warm reception, I must say," "Then you have read a very checkered cried the fellow, as they led him away bleed-page, Sir. What an admirable cigar! You ing and bruised to the jail. import these, I'd wager?" nets. It was not a diflicult task for Cutbill to obtain from Marie Pracontal the details he 66 No; but it comes to the same. I buy them in bond and pay the duty." "With pleasure; but here is the carriage, let us get in, for the narrative is somewhat long and complicated." 66 He has not heard of it: he is at Rome, paying court to an English lady of rank to whom he hopes to be married." "And how will he bear it? in what spirit will he meet the blow?" "From what I have seen of him, I'd say he'd stand up nobly under misfortune, and not less so here, that I know he firmly believed in his right; he was no party to the fraud." "These frauds, as you call them, succeed every day, and when they occur in high places we have more courteous names to call them by. What say you to the empire in France?" "I'll not discuss that question with you; it takes too wide a range." "Anatole must bethink him of some other livelihood now, that's clear. I mean to tell him so." -to speak with Before you begin, Sir, one question; | can be brought to an easy test - so long as where is my son now? is he at Rome?" money exists." "Let me know where to write to you, and I will see what can be done." sought for. Smarting under the insults and scandal she had been exposed to on the day before, she revealed everything, and signed in due form a procès verbal, drawn up by a notary of the place, of her marriage with Baldassare, the birth of her son Anatole, with the dates of his birth and baptism, and gave up besides some letters which he had written while at the naval school of Genoa. What became of him afterward she knew not, nor indeed seemed to care. The cruelties of the father had poisoned her mind against the son, and she showed no interest in his fate and wished not to hear of him. Cutbill left Aix on the third day, and was slowly strolling up the Mont Cenis pass in front of his horses, when he overtook the very galley-slave he had seen addressing the crowd at Aix. "I thought they had sent you over the frontier into France, my friend," said Cutbill, accosting "So they did, but I gave them the slip at Catoy, and doubled back. I have business at Rome, and couldn't endure that roundabout way by Marseilles." "Will you smoke? may I offer you a cigar?". "My best thanks," said he, touching his cap politely. "They smashed my pipe, those good people down there; like all villagers they resent free speech, but they'd have learned something had they listened to me." Cutbill's mission was to Aix, in Savoy, to see and confer with Marie Pracontal, the first wife of Baldassare. He arrived in the nick of time, for only on that same morning had Baldassare himself entered the town, in his galley-slave uniform, to claim his wife and ask recognition among his fellowtownsmen. The house where she lived was besieged by a crowd, all more or less eager in asserting the woman's cause, and denouncing the pretensions of a fellow cov-him like an old acquaintance. ered with crimes, and pronounced dead to all civil rights. Amid execrations and insults, with threats of even worse, Baldassare stood on a chair in the street, in the act of addressing the multitude, as Cutbill drew nigh. The imperturbable self-possession, the cool courage of the man who dared to brave public opinion in this fashion and demand a hearing for what in reality was nothing but a deliberate insult to the people around him, whose lives he knew, and whose various social derelictions he was familiar with was positively astounding. "I have often thought of you, good people," said he, "while at the galleys; and I made a vow to myself that the first act of my escape, if ever I should escape, should be to visit this place and thank you for every great lesson I have learned in life. It was here, in this place, I committed my first theft; it was yonder in that church I first essayed sacrilege. It was you, amiable and gentle people, who gave me four associates who betrayed each other, and who died "It is I that am honoured, Sir," said he, on the drop or by the guillotine, with a cour-removing his cap, and bowing low. "There age worthy of Aix; and it was from you I re- is nothing so distinctively well-bred as the ceived that pearl of wives who is now mar- courtesy of a man in your condition to one ried to a third husband and denies the de- in mine." cent rights of hospitality to her first." "Perhaps your frankness was excessive.” "Ha! you were there, then? Well, it was what Diderot calls self-sacrificing sincerity; but men who travel much, who mix with varied classes of mankind, fall into this habit. In becoming cosmopolitan you lose in politeness." "Signor Baldassare, your conversation interests me much. Will you accept a seat in my carriage over the mountain, and give me the benefit of your society?" 66 But you are no stranger to me." "Indeed! I remarked you called me by my name; but I'm not aware that you know more of me." This outrage was now unbearable; a rush was made at him, and he fell among the crowd, who had torn him limb from limb but for the intervention of the police, who were driven to defend him with fixed bayonets. "A warm reception, I must say," cried the fellow, as they led him away bleed-page, Sir. What an admirable cigar! You ing and bruised to the jail. import these, I'd wager? It was not a difficult task for Cutbill to obtain from Marie Pracontal the details he "I can afford to rival your own candor, and confess I know a great deal about you.' “Then you have read a very checkered 46 No; but it comes to the same. I buy them in bond and pay the duty." |