thought of a connexion risen vividly before my mind; and when the event made me angry with the maiden and despise myself, yet consider myself happy that the delusion was over, my heart seemed quite dead. I believed no longer in that energetic feeling which irresistibly fixes our destiny.

. . . Milly has a Roman character, and this was always my ideal of a citizen's wife; pride, intellect, the most retiring modesty, unbounded love, constancy, and gentleness. In history we only meet with such women among the Roman matrons,-the Calpurnias, Portias, Arrias. Soft, weak, tender girlishness would neither have elevated nor strengthened my character. I must stop. This is too confused, and I must go and take these pages to Dora, and then go to Milly and her mother, who willingly consents. Farewell.

In June, 1798, Niebuhr sailed from Cuxhaven to Yarmouth. He took letters to Sir Thomas Rivers, Lord Lansdowne, Mr. Wyndham, Roscoe, Rennell, and others, so that he was unusually well introduced; unfortunately, the only letters referring to his residence in England and Scotland are those addressed to his betrothed, and which are hence much mixed up with personal matters. Niebuhr always retained a great predilection for the English nation. Their great consistency of character, their general strict integrity, and their great truthfulness, raised them in his estimation above every other nation, excepting his own; and, therefore, he was more disposed to form lasting connexions with individuals belonging to it than with any other foreigners; in fact, most of the foreign friendships were with Englishmen. His first impressions were, however, by no means flattering:

The dinner at the Royal Society fully justified the sentence that has often been passed upon such meetings. It was a feast, and the conversation extremely indifferent; in fact, below the every-day conversation of learned men in Germany. We must not be unjust to ourselves: it is our own fault that we are not nobler than we are in general; but whether the Good and the Beautiful find a temple in more hearts here in England, is a great question, and worth the solving, if it can be solved. Everybody here is in action; idleness and half-done work are certainly less common than with us; practical ability is certainly more general-a false show of knowledge rarer; a smooth exterior gains little respect; the word of a man may be depended on, and I believe the better sort trouble themselves little about the opinion of others. But it cannot be denied that mediocrity is very common, and is by no means looked down upon that, as Schönborn says, it is a question whether genius is an attribute of this nation, and certain that true warmheartedness is extremely rare; a little of the fog that "Allwill" talks about seems very prevalent, hence, also, the great indifference, the one-sidedness, the self-will. You see that novelty has not raised my opinion as to place me in danger of having, hereafter, to moderate a flaming enthusiasm. It would indeed need much to make me feel here as in my fatherland,-to make other advantages compensate for the absence of that harmony of sentiment which made me happy in the society of our friends, even before you were mine.

I think that most learned men here, as elsewhere, look more to the authority that a man brings with him, than to his talents and intellect. My father's name, which is very celebrated here, introduces me everywhere. But I look forward with pleasure to the time that will transfer me from a rather too conspicuous position to the quiet of Scotland.

The erudite Dane frequently finds fault with the English for their unpedantic style of conversation. "The superficiality and insipidity of nearly all the conversations to which I have listened, or in which I have joined, is really depressing. As far as I can hear, little is said about

politics, which is a good thing-much better than our German mania for going beyond our depths on such subjects; but, that narrative and common-places form the whole staple of conversation, from which all philosophy is excluded—that enthusiasm and loftiness of expression are entirely wanting, depresses me more than any personal neglect of which, as a stranger, I might have to complain."

Upon the occasion of a visit to Westminster Abbey, he says he looked with reverence and gratitude upon the busts of so many great men. "But how characteristic is the equally honourable position accorded to so many nameless and insignificant persons by the side of the noblest dead! What a quantity of nonsense is to be seen on these venerable walls! One man writes a Hebrew inscription on the tomb of his daughter; on another, I think also belonging to a woman, there is an Abyssinian inscription; Chatham has an absurdly over-burdened allegorical monument; Sidney and Russell have none at all; and in Milton's, the man who erected it gives his own name and title in several lines; Milton is mentioned in the quietest manner."

Alluding to the inhabited house which then occupied the spot of Pope's cool retreat at Twickenham, Niebuhr justly remarks that it ought to be a temple for the grove-a fit accompaniment to the charming scenery, and a memorial of the poet. As he came to know the English better, so he got to like them more, or rather to understand them better, but he still justly condemned the habitual dissoluteness of the youth of the better classes:

I know no nation to which I would rather belong as a citizen than the English, not only on account of their constitution, but from my delight in the hard-working, active intellect, and the strong, straightforward common sense of the thinking men, and because of the superior, almost universal cultivation of the burgher class, strictly so called, and, as I believe, of the farmers, who might put to shame many a conceited scholar, and many a high-bred, polished aristocrat. Of the English scholars, on the contrary, I have a very mean opinion: I keep to my assertion, that they are without originality; also, that England can boast of no true poets at the present time. And yet literary men are the only people with whom a foreigner can come into close contact; for only a very brilliant intellect or external advantages can procure him admittance to the interior of families. These are only open to natives, and I think it right that it should be so; for, in fact, what can a foreigner bring with him, unless he be an extremely distinguished man, to make his friendship wanted, when people have been long surrounded with friends already? I positively shrink from associating with the young men on account of their unbounded dissoluteness, which makes me feel that I should be more likely to meet with uncourteousness and repulse from them than cordial friendship.

Con

This is in a letter to Count Moltke, not to Milly, as he calls his betrothed, and after a residence of upwards of three months in England. The same month, that was, in October, 1798, he left London for Edinburgh, resolved, as he wrote, whatever the professors might be, if they could not teach him mathematics and astronomy, to teach himself. sidering that these were the palmy days of Edinburgh, the days of Playfair, Robinson, Hope, Gregory, and most other distinguished men, it would certainly appear that self-conceit formed no small portion of the young man's character. The same flippancy is further betrayed where he speaks of Professor Robinson as wasting his time with very superficial remarks on the origin and value of the sciences; and further with very

unseasonable invectives against modern philosophy. This burst of arrogance was, however, as quickly followed by one of modesty. It had cost him in London, he says, at the rate of nine guineas a year to have a hairdresser, so in Edinburgh he availed himself of the liberty of wearing his hair plain. The piety, so characteristic of the Scotch, he designates as strict and rather pedantic, and as causing him much embarrassment; but he denounces in still stronger language the dissoluteness of a fellowstudent. He writes indeed of the "universal licentiousness" of young Englishmen, and says "they are only happy in the enjoyment of sensual pleasures." This a most unmerited condemnation of the Edinburgh students, many of whom will work enthusiastically eighteen hours a day, when even the wondrous Niebuhr was satisfied with twelve. But Niebuhr attached an importance to conversation and every trifling expression that we never dream of in this country, and was therefore only calculated to mislead him. Many a young man talks of misdeeds that he never commits, and affects an indifference to feelings and conduct that he is far from really entertaining.

After residing a year and a half in London and Edinburgh, Niebuhr returned to Holstein, whence he started early the ensuing year to Copenhagen, having obtained an appointment, the income of which enabled him to marry Amelia Behrens, and take her with him to the Danish capital. In 1806 he left Copenhagen for Berlin, where he accepted the situation of joint-director of the first bank that was founded in Prussia. The opening of the University of Berlin, at Michaelmas, 1810, brought him forward as a lecturer on Roman history; and the lectures which he delivered in this and the following year were published in 1811, and contain the germs of those new combinations and discoveries for which he will be best known to posterity. Niebuhr's studious life was interrupted by the war of liberation in 1813-14, and in which he took an active part. In 1816 he was sent as ambassador to Rome, and on his return from Italy he retired to Bonn, where he gave lectures on Roman antiquities and various subjects, and ultimately died in 1831.

The truly valuable work before us contains illustrations of all these eventful epochs in the historian's life; and although it is evident, from many passages, that Niebuhr was what would be called in this country a Freethinker, and from a fault in his mental constitution, which adhered to him through life-that of measuring his fellow-creatures by an ideal and far too high a standard-he was also a philosophical republican; yet, as his mind was imbued with a pure devotional spirit, albeit of a philosophical character, as his morals were untainted, his virtues genuine, and his republicanism ideal and not practical, there is no portion of this truly learned and good man's letters, that may not be read with advantage to the heart, and improvement of the understanding. The character presented to the reader, it has been justly remarked, is that of one wise and noble far beyond the generality of men. His letters, indeed, constitute a study for the moralist not less than for the scholar; there is a vein of reflection, and an unceasing flow of suggestive thought that pervades them, which, as in the instance of Goethe, render it impossible to tear oneself from the perusal of such a thoughtful, instructive, and delightful correspondence.

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

LORD PALMERSTON, ENGLAND, AND THE CONTINENT.

AUSTRIAN VIEWS OF ENGLISH FOREIGN POLICY.

To

THE annals of European history contain no epoch characterised by more general, more violent, and more extraordinary events, than what occurred in 1848. The agitation was clearly discerned, yet every one was taken by surprise. There was not want of foresight, there was want of resolution. Nothing was opposed to the revolutionary deluge, but a mistaken, dignified silence, and arms blunted by the lapse of time. repair so great an evil, and to prevent any similar catastrophe, is the great problem which now engages the courts of Europe. But the problem is not one of very easy solution; governments accuse the people, the people accuse governments, when there is, or ought to be, mutual responsibilitya responsibility which, however, is greater on the part of government, and the more so as its forms are more or less despotic. To re-establish, on the one hand, a former state of things, that has been destroyed, is a new revolution; to continue, on the other, an open and incessant hostility against all existing institutions, is to destroy everything, even to the germs of futurity.

As the basis of order lies in government, so we see in the present day all kinds of systems bolstered up-monarchies anticipating that the basis being once re-established by force, society will reform, and all will go on smoothly; monarchies which are to be durable, without the people being royalist; and, lastly, republics springing up among people of decided anti-republican tendencies. Proportionately brief, also, has been the duration of the latter. One might just as well pretend to establish the supremacy of religion where there is not a sentiment of its truths. The Count de Ficquelmont, formerly President of the Council, and Minister of Foreign Affairs in the Court of Austria, takes no account of this mutual responsibility of people and governments; with him the people are alone to blame, and the evils that weigh down upon them, in the shape of a re-actionary despotism, are of their own seeking the natural punishment of their faults.*

Among the great catastrophes of 1848, the revolution in Austria was the most surprising. It was most difficult to understand how so extensive a political body, which had never ceased to act in the extreme system of defence, could be so easily overthrown. The French revolution of 1789 was effected by an entive change in social feelings, brought about by philosophy, by literature, and by manners; and France has ever since

Lord Palmerston, l'Angleterre, et le Continent. Par Le Comte de Ficquelmont, Ancien Ambassadeur à Constantinople et à Saint Petersbourg, Ancien Ministre d'Etat et des Conférences, Ancien President du Conseil et Ministre des Affaires étrangères d'Autriche.

March.-VOL. XCIV. NO. CCCLXXV.

S

lived upon the capital placed at her disposal by incessant insurrections and revolutions, without troubling herself with sowing the seed of morality on a soil now almost exhausted. The situation of Austria, in face of its revolution, was, according to M. Ficquelmont, entirely of a different kind. It had been brought into such a position by purely material causes. It was a revolution of weakness. There was a superabundance of vitality to which the social state gave no employment, and which was cast back upon itself by the languor of a political system, which not only rejected all active measures, but applauded political inactivity as a virtuous moderation. No one was desirous of power. Princes, ministers, and nobles, alike agreed in preferring privacy to the active support of the throne. The signs which were given of change in every direction were seen, but none wished to compromise themselves by early manifestations of mistrust or defence. An almost idolatrous worship of the monarchical principle, permitted none to imagine even that it was possible to fortify sovereign power, unless the initiative came from the Sovereign himself. A well-organised administration occupied and filled efficiently all the lower regions. But a want was felt, where superior minds should have been to give movement and direction. The movements of that administration were like a galvanic operation performed on a body whose vital principle was inactive. Those who said they were going to inspire it with a new life, easily carried others along with them; for this body only asked to regain, no matter in what way, the sentiment of self-being which it had lost. The dead who regains life does not ask upon what conditions. Thus, while the revolutions of great states are usually accomplished by the disputes of princes, ministers, or factions for power, the revolution of Vienna took place because there was no one to govern. To believe M. Ficquelmont, such a state of things necessarily imparted also to external politics the same character of negation that belonged to the interior. Everything was reduced to mere appearances. The idea became common throughout Europe, that there only remained the appearance of an empire, easy to tumble down, and still more easy to despoil. This opinion added to the difficulties of the political position of Austria, which only found, among the powers that were not hostile to her, that kind of feeling which is entertained towards a friend whom we look upon as lost. It was thus only within itself that the Austrian empire could seek and find the force necessary to restore confidence to such of her subjects as remained faithful to her, to subject those that were in rebellion, to triumph over external enemies, and to regain its political rank in Europe.

It is unnecessary to follow M. Ficquelmont in the details of the events of 1848 and 1849, viewed in the light imparted to those details by reflection from the Austrian cabinet itself. The minister compares the organisation of the Austrian army to that of the English army in India, which, after defeating its most bellicose opponents, the Sikhs, incorporated a number of them in its own ranks. This is not very complimentary to the European populations, Italian, Hungarian, and Slavonian, that were in arms against Austrian bureaucracy. In the half-civilised East, it is only through the medium of the Anglo-Indian army, that the semi-barbarous Orientals acquire those notions of order and of justice to which they were before utter strangers, and become initiated into the feeling of re