most agreeable aroma. We mean his be almost unreadable were it not for the exhumor, which, seen to the greatest advan- traordinary clearness with which each step tage in the essay on "Murder Considered as is elucidated, thereby relieving the mind one of the Fine Arts," flashes out at inter- from some part of the burden laid upon it by vals in almost all his other writings, though at times betraying the same kind of weakness which we have already mentioned as distinguishing in some few instances his serious opinions.

the excessive care with which the ground is beaten. To those who can sustain the fatigue, Mr. De Quincey's method will be doubtless as agreeable as his style. The cogency with which his meaning is finally brought out repays us for our previous labor, and leaves an impression of necessary truthfulness on the mind which has probably never yet been produced by the fascinating periods of Macaulay.

The style and method of our author correspond to these mental peculiarities. Both are eminently his own: and of the first we should be inclined to say that it is nearly faultless. In purity of idiom and precision of structure his sentences have never been It is now time that we glanced briefly at surpassed; and his pages occasionally sparkle some of the dicta which De Quincey has left with felicities of expression which have rarely behind him. The originality by which these been equalled. How exquisitely does he say are marked, as might be expected, is not alof the age of Plato's manhood, "The bright ways free from error. His criticisms on litsunset of Pericles still burned in the Athe-erature are too ingenious to be universally nian heavens." With what charming humor accepted; and he occasionally takes up a and aptness of the "Patron" in the days of Goldsmith, that he, it was true, "was dying out like the golden pippin, but he still lingered in sheltered situations." How beautifully of Pompey :

"The position of Pompey, as an old invalid, from whom his party exacted the services of youth, is worthy of separate notice. There is not perhaps a more pitiable situation than that of a veteran reposing upon his past laurels, who is summoned from beds of down, and from the elaborate system of comforts engrafted upon a princely establishment, suddenly to re-assume his armor-to prepare for personal hardships of every kind to renew his youthful anxieties, without support from youthful energies-once again to dispute sword in hand the title to his own honors to pay back into the chancery of war, as into some fund of abeyance, all his own prizes, and palms of every kind-to re-open every decision or award by which he had ever benefited-and to view his own national distinctions of name, trophy, laurel crown, as all but sa many stakes provisionally resumed, which must be redeemed by services tenfold more difficult than those by which originally they had been carned."

De Quincey's method is not so absolutely blameless as his style. He is too circuitous. Confident in his own power of keeping the one end in view through any number of mazes or episodes, he makes no allowance for the want of that power in his readers. He winds through a subject with easy, leisurely steps; making us observe every point of view which it presents, and bringing us to the end of it with a completeness of knowledge which is most satisfactory, on one condition; namely, that we do get to the end of it. But that is

not so sure.

He keeps us in the dark too long. Our attention is racked till it is benumbed. This is specially the case with his articles on political economy, which would

cause in which he is overweighted by antagonists. We should have thought nothing of De Quincey being opposed to Addison. We should have thought nothing of his being opposed to Dr. Johnson. But when he opposes himself to the two together we cannot help suspecting that he has somewhat misjudged his own powers. However, he has come out of this particular contest without much loss. He has proved Milton's assailants wrong in one point, though he has broken down in the other. What is commonly objected to in "Paradise Lost" is its learning-that is, the terms of art, and the allusions, which can only be understood by scholars-are placed upon their proper footing and successfully vindicated. But Milton's use of the pagan mythology is not defended with equal success. To say that it is perfectly legitimate because Milton really believed that the fallen angels were the demons of Greece and Rome seems to us childish: and a remarkable instance of that peculiar weakness to which we have already called at

tention.

Two other writers in the case of whom De Quincey seems to have gone somewhat astray are Pope and Junius. To pass over minor passages in which he erroneously charges Pope with writing bad grammar, bad sense, etc.,-accusations the results solely of overstrained and captious ingenuity-what can be worse than his comments upon Pope's Satires ?—

"The Satires, on the other hand were of false origin. They arose in a sense of talent for Pope had neither the malice (except in the most caustic effects, unsupported by any satiric heart. fugitive form) which thirsts for leaving wounds, nor, on the other hand, the deep moral indignation which burns in men whom Providence has

him and it was the merest self-delusion if at

from time to time armed with scourges for which in common with them is, as a rule, cleansing the sanctuaries of truth or justice. He "without sentiment, without imagery, and was contented enough with society as he found without generalization." The art of stating it: bad it might be, but it was good enough for a case, which is pre-eminently the art of Yet it may call forth very high powers of journalism depends upon no one of these. composition, and even, as we understand the word, of rhetoric. When Junius says of Colonel Luttrel "that he has disgraced even the name of Luttrel, and exceeded his father's most sanguine expectations," we feel that he is exercising either rhetoric or something better. But for this " applied" literature, had little taste; and the absence of this taste as distinguished from "pure," De Quincey is an additional evidence of that partial effeminacy of mind to which we have more than once adverted.

any moment the instinct of glorying in his satiric mission (the magnificabo apostolatum meum) persuaded him that in his case it might be said -Facit indignatio versum. The indignation of Juvenal was not always very noble in its origin, or pure in its purpose: it was sometimes mean In its quality, false in its direction, extravagant in its expression but it was tremendous in the roll of its thunders, and as withering as the scowl of a Mephistopheles. Pope having no such internal principle of wrath boiling in his breast, being really (if one must speak the truth) in the most pacific and charitable frame of mind towards all scoundrels whatever, except such as might take it into their heads to injure a particular Twickenham grotto, was unavoidably a hypocrite of the first magnitude when he affected (or sometimes really conceited himself) to be in a dreadful passion with offenders as a body."

In questions of practical politics his ingenuity, as might be expected, sometimes overshoots the mark. In his description of the state of the parties at Rome at the outbreak of the civil war between Cæsar and Now this must either be a case of what Pompey, and in his view of English parties De Quincey himself so strongly objects to in 1793, this defect is equally remarkable. recognize, namely, a verbal difference, or In the first case he has unquestionably laid De Quincey himself must have been suffer- hold of a most important truth; but he bluning from the very worst effects of long isola- ders, as it seems to us, in his treatment of it. tion from the world when he wrote the pas- To begin with, we are unaware of the existsage. Does not every word of it militate ence of any evidence to show either that just as strongly against Horace's claim to Pompey was a bad man or Cæsar a good one, be a satirist as against Pope's? The world may be a very good world; we may have apart from their political conduct: conclusions which our author very unceremoniously plenty of cakes and ale; but surely, that is assumes. But to waive this question, we not to cut us off from our appreciation of the have the important problems presented to us dunce and the bore. Neither Pope nor-namely, whether Pompey was the more Horace were satirists of society at large, as patriotic in his opposition to Cæsar, or Cæsar Juvenal was. They were satirists of partic-in his opposition to Pompey; and upon what ular types of human folly. Thank God we grounds Cicero finally determined to unite have never yet had the material for a Juvenal his fortunes with the latter. Now, in assertamongst us! But are we therefore to denying that the party of Pompey did not reprethe existence of satire as a branch of English sent, as has been commonly supposed, a literature? This is just one of those errors which a writer of De Quincey's genius and De Quincey's habits would be very likely to fall into; but we protest against it, nevertheless, as a most shortsighted and untract

able error.

Of De Quincey's other literary judgments we feel called upon to notice only his depreciation of Junius, and that simply because it is so characteristic of himself. As he has but a small appreciation of practical politics, so has he but a small appreciation of the literary ability devoted to them. But if the direction of language to the attainment of a given end, the employment of it as an instrument to put our enemies to shame,-be in itself worthy of no admiration, what becomes of three-fourths of the best literary ability of the present day which is employed in journalism? Junius' letters were the great foreshadower of the modern leading article,

really constitutional party, De Quincey no
doubt is right. On the one hand was an
oligarchy created on the ruin of the Consti-
tution, on the other a military conqueror en-
deavoring to usurp their place. Cicero, we
maintain, saw this as plainly as anybody
else. But he saw also, what Mr. De Quin-
cey does not see, that in upholding the cause
of Pompey he was at least upholding the tra-
ditions and forms of the Republic, and giv-
ing it one more chance of revival before it
was finally trodden cut under the iron heels
of the soldiery :—

Si duo præterea tales Idæa tulisset
Terra viros!

But there was not another really constitu-
tional statesman upon that side. Brutus
and Cato were oligarchs and not aristocrats.
They had disgusted the smaller gentry and
corrupted the Roman populace. Arrogance

and bribery together had done their work. |ness. But the first emperor was in many reAnd it was the fatal consciousness of this, spects a Conservative. He was reconstructrather than any despondency occasioned by ing the society which the Jacobins had torn to the particular character of Pompey, which pieces. He was exterminating the "ideas ” gave rise to the deep tone of melancholy that against which we ourselves had made war. pervades the later letters of Cicero. He saw It was necessary, no doubt, to withstand his that the Roman Constitution was doomed. lust of conquest; but that the people of this But he stood by the sinking ship: and it has country were more unanimous in their hosnow become the fashion to revile him for his tility to him than they were in their hostility fidelity to the cause." Practical men who to the convention we can scarcely bring ourfall into this blunder are in our eyes in- selves to believe, in spite of Mr. Wordsexcusable. But Mr. De Quincey is not a worth's lines. practical man, and we are satisfied, thereDe Quincey, then, to sum up our remarks, fore, with adducing the blunder as an addi-was evidently a man of singularly independtional testimony to the truth of our own ent character, and of great intellectual delicacy. He was formed of the same stuff as With regard to our own situation in 1793 an Aquinas or a Scotus, and, had he lived in we are bound to admit this much-that if a different age, might have founded a system Mr. De Quincey errs, he at least errs in of metaphysics. The same precision and good company. Both Mr. Disraeli and Lord profundity brought to bear upon questions Macaulay have united in condemning the of history and criticism have produced many first French war of Mr. Pitt. But we must striking results, if not always convincing confess that we have never been able to un- conclusions. Convincing or not, however, derstand how those who object to the war of they are most wholesome at the present mo1793 can justify that of 1804. Napoleon I. ment, when a disposition prevails so genwas a much more sensible and practical an-erally to underrate the First Philosophy. tagonist than the Jacobins. They went to In questions of taste De Quincey is a less war for "an idea" in good earnest. They certain guide: and in practical politics we would have burned our houses over our feel that we are speculating with the scholar heads in the name of reason and licentious- rather than walking with the statesman.

criticism.

A CORRESPONDENT in Naples sends us the following warning to antiquaries, and other curious folks, how they run about among the ruins of Pompeii:

"Wonderful escape at Pompeii!' said a friend the other day. But how? What on earth is there to be afraid of at Pompeii? Another eruption, or earthquake? Did the ghost of Diomedes make his appearance? or, worst of all, did you drink a bottle of Lacryma Christi at the hotel which bears the old Greek's name?''Oh, I am not the hero of the story,' was the reply; and then he proceeded to tell me how two young officers of the Rifle Brigade, Messrs. Turner and Boyle, on leave from Malta, had gone over to Pompeii on Thursday last, and had been groping amongst the cellars of the old houses. Mr. Turner, on passing what appeared to be a doorway, was precipitated into an ancient well. Hearing a sudden crash, his friend hastened to the spot, but although he repeatedly called Turner by name, no answer was returned, and overcome by apprehension, he gave the alarm, and

called together a number of the official and un official savages who tenant the place. By this time Turner had regained his senses, and had recovered so far as to be able to stand upright at the bottom of the well, which, fortunately, was dry. According to directions which he himself shouted up, a light was first let down, and then a rope, which proved to be too short. At last a picce of a plank, with a rope attached, to each end, was let down, and the lost man was steadily brought up. He had been upwards of an hour at the bottom of this well, which was afterwards measured by the officials, and found to be 30 mètres, or nearly 100 feet in depth. Marvellous to relate, he was in a state to be driven back to Naples; and for the satisfaction of those of his friends whose eye may glance at this notice, on being examined by Dr. Bishop, it was reported that no injury had been sustained. The accident took place in the Vicoletto della Regina, near the Forum Civile, in a house which had been abandoned as possessing no especial interest."-Athenæum.

younger shikaree, Nursoo, was behind me on the left. We all gazed at a tail. The distance was some sixty yards from us, but we could not make out the tiger. At length the end of the tail moved. Nursoo, making a similar motion with his forefinger, whispered in my car, 'Doomhilta-hai-(The tail's moving.') I now made out the body of the animal clear enough. Not a blade of grass nor a leaf was between us. A single forest tree, without a branch on it for thirty feet from the ground, was twenty yards nearer the tiger.

"It was very probable that he would see us, but it must be risked; so, pressing down my shikarce, Mangkalee, with my hand behind me, and keeping the trunk of the tree between the foo and me, while I said within myself, God be with me! If I get behind that tree, without your seeing me, you're a dead tiger.' 'I passed rapidly forward. So intent was the huge beast upon the poor calf, that he did not hear me. I placed the barrels of my rifle against the tree, but was obliged to wait.

"The tiger and the calf lay contiguous, tails on end to us. The calf's neck was in the tiger's mouth, whose large paws embraced his victim. I looked, waiting for some change in the position of the body, to allow me to aim at a vital

part.

"At length the calf gave a struggle and kicked the tiger, on which the latter clasped him nearer, arching his own body, and exposing the white of his belly and chest. I pulled the trigger very slowly, aiming at the white, and firing for his heart-he was on his left side-as if I was firing at an egg for a thousand pounds.

"I knew that I hit the spot aimed at; but, to my astonishment, the tiger sprang up several feel in the air with a roar, rolled over, and towards me, for he was on higher ground than I was,-when, bounding to his feet, as if unscathed, he made for the mountains, the last rock of which was within forty yards of him.

and broke his back. Turning round to the poor villager, who, now the tiger was dead, was afraid to come near him, I patted him on the shoulder, and said, 'There is your enemy, old man : now, where does the tigress live?' I know nothing about her,' said the man, trembling all over (and no wonder); this was the owner of my village. I know nothing at all of the tigress. She takes her water at the other side of the village, and a long way off.""

On the following night the fires were lit, the sentries posted, and every precaution taken to avoid a visit from the female maneater who was to be tracked out on the morrow. But this care proved ineffectual, for an unhappy trooper was pounced upon by the tigress, who sprung on the man's chest, seizing him by the mouth, and thus closing it, so that he could not even cry for help. An attempt at succor proved useless, and Captain Shakspear, as he lay in the camp, could hear the growl of the tigress, and the "crunching of the poor trooper's bones." But the avenger is at hand, and it is not long before the few villagers who had not been eaten were enabled to return to their homes.

Captain Shakspear informs us that the tiger is not half so courageous an animal as the wild hog or the panther, and that if a man is bold enough to face round upon him, and to look at him calmly, at the same time shouting in defiance, the beast will very probably turn tail. But he adds that to him who runs it is almost certain death. The tenacity of life possessed by these animals is almost incredible, and "a tiger will often go in his charge several yards, with all the power and capability to strike down every "I must acknowledge that, firing at a beast one in his path, after the bullet has gone of this sort, with no vital part to aim at, stand-through his heart or crashed through his ing as I was for some time looking at him, and on lower ground, my heart beat rather quicker than was its wont. Albeit I had never turned my back to any animal in the jungles, and not one had ever seen its shape! I was confident, too, in my own nerve and shooting, for I had cut down, with one exception-and that one had cut me down as the scythe does the grass-every wild beast of the forest.

brain."

this statement:-
The following story is in corroboration of

"A few days after this, when encamped some seven miles east of Aring, kubbur, or report, of a tigress having killed a bullock, was brought in. Out I went alone. Twice I beat the nullah, which she had dragged the bullock into with my "Immediately, the tiger sprang to his feet and pad elephant, and was walking alongside about exposed his broad, left side to me, I stepped from thirty yards off her, when up the tigress got, behind the tree, looked at him in the face with with a roar, drove the elephant back, and went contempt, as if he had been a sheep, and while out at the other side of the nullah. On a sudhe passed me with every hair set, his beautiful den there was an awful shrieking, and I thought white beard and whiskers spread, and his eye some one had been seized. I rushed through like fire, with the left barrel I shot him through the nullah at the risk of my life, when I saw a the heart. He went straight and at undimin-wretch of a man high up a tree, shouting. Howished speed, each bound covering fifteen feet at least, for twenty-five yards, and then fell on his "The villagers, in a clump of one hundred head under the lowest rock of the mountain, in men, were at a respectable distance off on the which was his stronghold. Up went in the air other side of the nullah, on a low hill. My elehis thick, stumpy tail. Seizing my other rifle, phant also, was some fifty yards off on the other I walked up to about fifteen yards of him-for side. One villager was near me, and I told him he was still opening his mouth and gasping-to go round, and make the people on the other

ever, he had seen which way the tigress went.