exhibited a remarkable degree of modesty and diffidence, united, as we have seen, to heroic fortitude, inextinguishable zeal and perseverance, and a manly independence of character.

him to take some medicine, which he refused, alleging that he had been attacked by fever before, and only took some rhubarb and tartar emetic, the former recommended by Mr. Moorcroft, and the latter by a Persian physician. Mr. Campbell urged him to have Some remarks upon the singular though recourse to those medicines, if he would take noble traits of M. Csoma, in an account of no other, and he accordingly took from a his last moments, have been published by box a piece of rhubarb (apparently dam- Baron Hugel, in the Allgemeine Zeitung. aged) and a bottle of tartar emetic, observ- "All those who knew M. Csoma personally, ing, "As you wish it, sir, I will take some as I did," observes the Baron, "must have to-morrow, if I am not better; it is too late been astonished to find how insensible that to-day, the sun has set." Mr Campbell sent distinguished man appeared to the diffihim some broth, and next day found him culties and hardships he had encountered better and lively in conversation. Still, the in his travels, and which he never alluded return of the fever was to be apprehended, to. In one of the many conversations I had without strong remedies, which M. Csoma, with him at Calcutta, I perceived that he nevertheless, could not be prevailed upon did not value his own life any more than to take. His frame, moreover, had become others have done whom ambition prompted debilitated by twenty years' bodily and to accomplish something extraordinary. mental exhaustion, and was unable to resist a severe attack of illness. On the 9th Mr. Campbell visited him, accompanied by Dr. Griffith. The fever was then very strong, and M. Csoma was delirious. With great difficulty he was induced to receive some medicine. On the 10th he was somewhat better, but his speech was incoherent; the fever returned in the evening, with loss of the mental faculties, and at five in the morning of the 11th he expired without a struggle, and apparently without pain. He was buried the same evening, in the presence of all the English residents of Darjeeling, Mr. Campbell pronouncing an oration over his grave.

The effects which M. Csoma left behind consisted of four chests of books and papers; an old-fashioned blue suit, which he constantly wore, and in which he died; some shirts; a copper cooking apparatus; Rs. 5,000 in Government paper; Rs. 500 in cash, and some gold coins, which were found sewed up in his girdle. He had directed, when he left Calcutta, in February, that, in the event of his not returning from Tibet, the Rs. 5,000 should be paid to the Asiatic Society of Calcutta, to be applied to literary purposes.

The wants of this extraordinary person were indeed few. His food consisted of tea, of which he was very fond, and rice boiled in water; of this, however, he ate but little. On a straw mat, beside which stood his chests, he sat, ate, studied, and slept. He never undressed, even at night, and seldom quitted the house during the day. He never tasted wine or spirituous liquors, nor did he use tobacco, or any Asiatic stimulant.

In his general demeanor, M. de Körös

He manifested feelings of mortification when he acknowldged he had discovered that the Tibetan language was but a subordinate branch of the Sanscrit, and when he seemed to reflect that he had led a wretched life, in a solitary convent, amidst the snows of the Himalaya, to learn a corrupt dialect of another tongue. With this exception, touching, as it were, the main spring of his life, he seemed indifferent to the applause of mankind, and his modesty, bordering on ascetic humility, did not warrant a belief that a consciousness of what he had performed afforded him any recompense for his toils and privations. There seemed to be some mysterious impulse in him, which gave him strength to bear up against all ills under the conviction that he might be instrumental in achieving something great, albeit at a distant period of time. It was as if there were some secret the solution of which would be a recompense for all his sufferings. Csoma's reserve was impenetrable; a confidential communication with him was utterly impracticable. Mr. Campbell must, therefore, have been surprised at the turn which he gave to one of their conver sations, in which Csoma openly declared 'how sensible he was of the applause of the world; how deeply he felt the privations he had endured, and how great had been the efforts he had made in his Tibetan researches, from which so much light had resulted.' He gave details of his travels; the progress he had made in acquiring the difficult language of Tibet, and mentioned with visible satisfaction the praises he had received from the learned in India and Europe. His last conversation with Mr. Campbell related to the subject which had absorbed his attention during his whole life.

offenders from our displeasure: and they may think themselves lucky, if they are only browbeaten for their zeal, and escape retaliation with a modest request to be less interfering for the future. The law, it is true (that perfection of human wisdom), allows intention to be placed in abatement of overt acts, and makes even the abuse of evil intention a ground of acquittal, however dreadful the consequences to life or

He asked him whether the term Hung, which occurs in a memoir of Mr. Campbell on the Limbu nation, had any relation to the Huns, observing that the coincidence of name was curious! Csoma then developed his theory of the original seat of the Huns being in Central Asia, and expressed his conviction that he shouldfat length find the object of his long pursuit in the country east and north of L'hassa. It cannot be doubted that Csoma, during this conversation, had a pre-limb may have proved. Thus the man who sentiment of his approaching end, since no one who knew him had ever heard him thus explicitly develope his theory. He probably wished to bequeath the discovery which he hoped to make, to some one, in order that it might reach his father-land. It seemed as if his restless spirit would not find quiet if the object of his laborious and miserably-spent life were not to be known."

The latter years of M. de Körös were exempted from pecuniary embarrassments by a present which he received from the Emperor Ferdinand, in his character of King of Hungary, and by a grant made by both Chambers of the Hungarian Parliament, as a reward for his scientific researches.

In reviewing the history of this remarkable man, it is impossible not to lament the hallucination under the influence of which he expended his time and talents, and wasted the energies of his mind and character. Even the good he effected, in the revelation of an unknown literature, was an accident, and such was the perversity of his views, that the reflection of having accomplished a task which is his sole title to the applause of his fellow-men, embittered his last moments with regret and mortification.

fires at a partridge, and only kills his elder brother, is pardoned his bad shot, if he can manage to prove that his gun was mentally aimed at the bird, and not at the man. So, too, the facetious wight, who frightens a maid-servant into insanity, by playing on her superstitious fears, is let off for a simple

who'd have thought it?" But then the law is an unimpassioned ens rationis, a stranger to flesh and blood, and all their infirmities. It cares no more for the elder brother, or the maid-servant, than for the man in the moon. Not, however, that the law is quite consistent on the point: for an assault is an assault, in its eyes, notwithstanding the beator's best intention towards the beatee, in administering to him the wholesome correction of which he stood in manifest need, and teaching him "to behave himself" for the future. So, also, the most patriotic intention of the libeller to run down a dishonest or incapable minister, to unmask a traitor, or to put a stop to malversations infinite, will afford him no protection. In this case, the tendency is every thing, and the intention nothing; and a tendency to a breach of the peace is therein plainly more severely punished than an actual breach, in which intention may be pleaded; so that it is often safer to calumniate one's neighbor, than to speak truth of him. But what, reader, is the worst possible breach of the peace (though that peace be our sovereign lady the Queen's), compared with the actual loss of an eye, careBAYLE, Preface. lessly inflicted by a good Samaritan, in an THERE are not many occasions, in which awkward effort to remove a mote? What force of character is more fully evinced, is it to a real peppering with small shot, than when a man masters his resentment, dealt to you by a short-sighted Benevolus, and pardons an injury under which he is who mistook you for a scarecrow? The smarting, merely because it was on the of-law, therefore, may decide on the matter as fender's part, unintentional. Even in the management of our own affairs, we find it difficult thoroughly to forgive ourselves our own oversights, when they are productive of mischiefs that give a permanent color to after existence. In those cases, therefore, in which such mischiefs occur from the mistaken efforts of others, it is not the desire to please or to benefit us that will screen the

GOOD INTENTIONS.
From the New Monthly Magazine.

Je ne garantie que mon intention, et non pas mon ignorance.

it pleases, but it never will persuade the sufferer that a little more malice, and a great deal less injury, would not have better suited his account.

For our own part, therefore, if we do not believe that a certain place is paved (as some folks will tell you) with good intentions: it is not because we esteem the commodity too respectable for the service; but

toward consequences; and the world is too wide awake, to commit itself and its purpose by such heedless mismanagement.

because we think too highly of the survey. We cannot, indeed, tell what moralists or of the highways, là-bas, as a person of mean about the designs of the wicked not intelligence, to suppose him capable of em- prospering, of their evil recoiling on themploying so slippery a material, where his selves. It has certainly not been our luck object is to make the passenger thoroughly to stumble upon enemies, who went to work sure of his footing. Every one, too, who in the careless manner implied in these proknows what cold comfort good intentions positions. It must be a very fresh trick, afford, must be perfectly aware of their un-indeed, that would be followed by such unfitness for the pavement of so hot a locality. In this nineteenth century of ours, it may seem almost superfluous to insist upon the point; but notwithstanding the imputed science of the age, it is astonishing how few people are aware of the fact, that these same dealers in good intentions are by far the greatest bores to which human life is exposed; that they do more to spoil our poor modicum of threescore years and ten (taking one life with another), than plague, pestilence, and famine put together. It is this triste vérité, nevertheless, that gives its pith to the well-worn proverbial prayer for a special protection from heaven against friends. He would be no bad philosopher who could satisfactorily explain why it is that good intentions so often fall short in their consequence, while the evil intentions of enemies never fail in reaching their aim. For, though it may happen once in a thousand times, that a blow with a dagger may open an imposthume, and so save the charge of surgeons or that the burning of your house may lead to the discovery of a treasure, which will more than repay the expense of rebuilding it; yet one swallow will not make a summer. Besides, such incidental benefits are mere ricochets, and have, or should have no influence on the character of the main action. Accordingly, a man would be mad indeed, who would submit his body to the dirk, or his house to the lucifer-match box, on the strength of such a possible contingency.

Putting, however, these strange accidents on one side, as being quite beyond the sphere of calculation, there can be little mistake in expecting from the evil intentions of enemies the full complement of practical consequence. The tu me lo pagharai of Italian vengeance, is not a surer forerunner of a coming assassination, than the mischievous intention in more civilized life is to the mischievous effect. Never has it occurred to our young experience, to hear of a dunning epistle being turned aside by fate and metaphysical aid, into an invitation to dinner nor can we charge our memory with a single case in which one, intending to run away with another man's wife, mistakingly married himself to her unportioned ugly sister.

Without refining too far upon the difference between good and bad intentions, we are half-inclined to suspect that the weakness of the former is most commonly attributable to the lachesse of the party offending; and to affirm that if folks took half the pains to oblige and serve their friends, that they do to harass and injure their enemies, they would be as successful in the former as in the latter case. A genuine hater will leave no stone unturned to wreak his vengeance; but rarely indeed can we detect this omnilapideversile propensity manifested in the friendly intender of benefit to others. There is indeed a perfunctory manner of conferring services, which is admirably adapted to ensure their failure, but which is rarely discernible in men's efforts to serve themselves. Now it is a received maxim of law, that no man is to benefit by his own lâchesse; and we cannot regard that person in any other light than as a dupe, who remains answered by a profession of the very best intention, and who by admitting an excuse so easily offered, carelessly opens a wide door to the repetition of the offence.

Nature, in her comprehensive scheme of human happiness, has coupled our pains and pleasures with facts, and not with intentions. To what purpose, then, would it be that a man should surround himself with friends, and (as the saying is) should put his eyes upon sticks to captivate their good will, unless there were some proportionate relationship between the will and the deed? What difference, indeed, does it make to the sufferer, whether the evil comes from friend or foe, from a good or an evil motive; unless it be that the former is the least supportable? Of all 'the conspirators that joined in the murder of Julius Cæsar, Brutus alone had good intentions. All,

son.

against another. Of all their daggers, Bru-ness, on the casual falling in with an old tus's alone was drugged with a moral poi- acquaintance; or perhaps he would plead a touch of the cholera, and lay the sin on the medical necessities of the case; nay, it will be well if he does not directly exonerate all intoxicating liquors of the deed, and impudently attempt to mystify the magistrate out of his five shillings, by attributing the whole to "that glass of cold water," which he was imprudent enough to indulge in before leaving the tavern.

How very little intentions merit consideration, is further evinced in the single fact that these must ever remain a matter of conjecture, or be received on the faith of the man's own testimony; whereas, according to the Scotch saw, "deeds show:" and herein lies the weak point of most writers of history, who give a few lines only to the setting forth a great political event, and bestow whole chapters on the vain attempt to detect the secret springs that moved the actors, and brought the matter to pass. What is the result ? their argu- | ment at most reaches to placing before their readers un grand peut-être ; while for the most part, their most elaborate guesses go only to a flagrant missing of the mark.

After all the observation which has been thrown away by professed moralists on the motives of human action, the world is not much nearer the mark in its couplings of cause and effect, than the inventor of indictments, who referred all things not exactly according to Hoyle, from the levying war against our sovereign lady the Queen, down to taking the evening air on Blackheath, or to mistaking another man's house for your own, and his window for a door-to the instigation of the devil. What a vastly good opinion, by the by, must the law have entertained of human nature, when it could not discover a weak point in its whole moral complex, upon which to charge the most paltry felony, but was forced to throw the entire responsibility on His Darkness: thereby entailing on itself the miserable non sequitur of punishing the innocent in the place of the guilty. If the devil did the mischief, why in the devil's name, as the Germans say when they swear, not set loose the attorneys on him, instead of the prisoner at the bar ? Surely it was not from any misgivings as to these gentlemen by act of parliament being a match for the real delinquent!

So, when a gallant has inextricably engaged the affections of a fond foolish woman, and refuses to marry her, he never is honest enough to plead fickleness, a rich widow, or a love of mischief; but he has ready in his sleeve a letter from his untractable father to call him away, or an insuperable repugnance to bringing, by an indiscreet match, want and misfortune upon a confiding and too loving woman.

We have it on record against Lieutenantgeneral Othello, when he was had up before the beaks for putting a pillow on his wife's head, instead of putting his wife's head on the pillow, that he laid the whole mistake to his excessive affection for the lady, which he said was a little more nice than wise-(not wisely but too well.") Not a word of his unjustifiable dislike of Michael Cassio, not a syllable of his own self-conceit, not a hint at a hastiness of temper, particularly unbecoming in a military commander. George Barnwell, with an equal show of reason, might have attributed the undue familiarity with which he treated his uncle, not to a wanton desire to injure his respectable relative, but to the warmth of his affection for Miss Milwood, a lady whose susceptible feelings were all in favor of a good supper and a bottle of the best. If he had that day got a prize in the lottery, received a timely remittance from home, or stumbled on the old gentleman's strongbox, unencumbered by his presence, he would have been the last man in the world to have put him to such personal inconvenience. Might he not, therefore, have pleadBut to return to our matter: the man ed the concatenation of causes, an unlucky must be a poor adept in his business, who mal-arrangement of the eternal nature of has not a sufficiently good intention con- things, which turned the kindest disposition stantly ready to put forward in defence of and the best intentions in the world against the most abominable actions. If a tosspot him: in short, it was more his misfortune is brought before the police, laboring than his fault; and if a jury persisted in under an exhilaration of spirits and tituba- hanging him, he would be the most mistion of foot unmatched by the condition of understood man who ever died midway beDavid's sow, would he be such a fool as to | tween heaven and earth. accuse himself of a disgraceful love of wine- In such cases, who is to decide, or how bibbing? No, he would lay the matter on is the matter to be determined? Every a too impressionable friendliness of dispo- man, after all, is the best, if not the sole sition, which betrayed him into forgetful- | judge of his own intentions, as alone know.

ing what really is passing within him; and plumage, and put him on a course of trainif he is prone to deceit, are not we, on our ing for office that unfits him for all other parts, equally fallacious, in always thinking pursuit. You thus lose the best years of the worst? The most selfish rascal that the boy's life in idle expectation, and at the ever burnt his neighbor's house to roast end of ten years my lord goes out of office, his own eggs, would have preferred cook- having in the interim, to redeem his proing them at a smaller expense to the world mise, just done-nothing. Now in this at large, had a more appropriate fire been there was no peculiar ill-treatment. His convenient. It is therefore an obvious pre- lordship had acted in the same manner to judgment and an unamiable prejudice, to pretty nearly all his friends; for, in the first jump at once from the act to the motive, place, he had not much to give; that is, as and then punish the act for the sake of the the common people say, to give "free gratis motive. for nothing at all:" and in the next, he held in his hand a list of undeniable expectants, the least considered of whom must be provided for, before he could appoint his own younger brother even to the honorable and lucrative office of a tide-waiter. Why then did he promise? Because he can never bear to give a denial to any man. He is anxious to spare you the pain of a direct refusal, and he fully intended, if the case should occur, to bear you in mind the first time he happened to find himself a free agent.

What, then, is the legitimate inference from these premises? Either that there is nothing in intention which renders it either good or evil, per se; or that if there be, it is the deed which gives it its qualification. Why indeed should any motive be called good, unless it be because it produces good acts or why called evil, if it be not followed by any evil consequences? To appeal therefore from the deed to the action, is to run a-muck at the logic of the case, and to fly in the face of all definition. If any one doubts the truth of this inference, we only beg of him or her (for the ladies are strong upon the point of intentions) to call upon conscience, to declare upon its conscience, which would be preferable-to live surrounded by the greatest rogues on earth, whose wicked designs were by some untoward event rendered ever abortive, or be blessed with a circle of the kindesthearted friends, whose blundering awkwardness rendered their most virtuous intentions a source of endless annoyance to all within the sphere of their unlucky activity. Do not, however, let us hurry things to a precipitate conclusion. Think, reader, before you pronounce a definitive sentence; and the better to enable you to do so, we will put before you a specimen or two of wellintentioned pests, who are the torment of all about them.

Let us begin with a great man, a minister of state, Lord Lightpromise, the kindesthearted and the best-intentioned man in the world. You bring him a letter from his dearest friend, soliciting his protection for your son. He receives you in the most flattering manner, is warm in his eulogium on his correspondent, who he protests is the man he loves best on earth, thanks him for having procured the service of so worthy a subject for promotion, pledges himself to seize, as the French say, avec empressement, the first opportunity for advancing your boy, and so you take your leave. Well, sir, upon these hopes, you deprive your son of some bird in the hand of less brilliant

Now we need not ask you, reader, whether you would not have preferred dealing with an inveterate hater, who would have bluntly told you that your wife's mother's first cousin voted against him for the county thirty years ago, and that he'd see you somethinged, before he'd make your brat a parish-beadle. Nay, would you not have thought yourself better off, had you known that the rogue expected a quid pro quo, and had positively refused you at once, because he knew of a better offer in another quarter? Then, again, quoad the friend who introduced you to this exceedingly well-intentioned lord, don't you think he had better have left you alone, when you were doing your best to provide for your boy by your own exertions? There was no such pressing occasion for his interference; but the mischief-maker had such a regard for you, and was so anxious to serve you, that he never stopped to weigh the value of a ministerial promise, or to ask himself if he had a quid pro quo, to repay the patronage he so foolishly drew upon.

But what need of looking about for illustration? You surely, within your own family circle, must be acquainted with some most excellent mother, who, with the best intentions in the world, has crammed her children into sickness, and physicked them, one after the other, into the grave! Do you know no one in your own neighborhood, who labors under a morbid respect for the maxim respecting the preference of learning over house and land, and who im