Such is the process by which the mystery of money-making is solved by Mr. Jerrold in the person of his hero. The consequences which result from it may be imagined at the hands of a writer so deeply skilled in laying bare the worst imperfections of our nature. Misery, of course, is the portion of the modern Midas, who literally "drops his blood for drachmas" as he yields to every fresh demand upon his purse; and in the development of his career are well portrayed, by a thousand keen, satiric touches, the subserviency of the world to full-blown wealth, no matter whence its source. The story itself is of the slightest texture. The chief actors in it, after Mr. and Mrs. Jericho, are Basil Pennibacker and his sisters Monica and Agatha ; the respective lovers of these young ladies-the Honourable Mr. Candytuft and Sir Arthur Hodmadod-who jilt them; the family of the Carraways, whose pretty daughter Bessy has won the heart of Basil, for, unlike his step-father, he has a heart, though his manners are no more polished than the butcher who damned Mr. Fox's politics; Colonel Bones, who will proclaim his poverty to the world, and is disbelieved, and honoured in consequence; Dr. Mizzlemist, the surgeon, who is ruined by being too candid; and a few minor personages, who serve as contrasts and makeweights.

All these characters are well described-after Mr. Jerrold's peculiar fashion; which means, not exactly as we should wish to be described ourselves; for, like Iago, Mr. Jerrold is nothing if not critical. The Honourable Mr. Candytuft, the man-tamer, is a fine specimen of the genus whose creed is unbounded benevolence for all the world; and Sir Arthur Hodmadod is equally great as the representative of the numerous class who are at a loss to understand their own meaning. They contrast admirably, agreeing only in selfishness.

But, unflatteringly as Mr. Jerrold may paint the individuals in whom he satirises society, we confess that we like them better than those whom he tries to render amiable. They seem to us as if they were only maskers, ready at any moment to lay aside their assumed characters, and show their plainness unpainted and ungilded. Basil Pennibackerthe young man with the heart-is the most notable example of this sort; and whatever fortune awaits him in Australia, we are not sorry, at the close of the book, to find that he has emigrated. Others, however, may think differently, and give this young gentleman a good reception; but whether they welcome or wish him at a distance, they must admit that there is quite enough of the devil in his composition to redeem him from being indifferent to any. And so of the rest: our likes or dislikes may be marked forcibly enough, but, agreeing or not with the philosophy, there is no doubt of our having to do with a philosopherone who takes his particular view of human nature, has courage enough to express, and full ability to sustain it. Examples multiplied to infinite quotation might prove this; but there is no necessity for making the appeal. The "Man Made of Money" is one more identification with the genius of its author.

And so ends our homily on alchemy, which, whether ancient or modern, ends like matrimony-according to the rubric, in amazement; or-according to the experience of some-in disappointment.

SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH AND THE QUEEN OF

DENMARK.*

THE particular epoch, which imparts an interest beyond all others to the long diplomatic career of Sir Robert Murray Keith, was his spirited rescue, as representative of Great Britain, of a daughter of England, and the sister of his sovereign, from a fate, the least disastrous probable issue of which was imprisonment for life in a northern fortress. The history of the charms, the sorrows, and the injuries of the British princess, to whom (in his own striking words) it was a "proud commencement for the envoy's chivalry to convey through the vaulted entrance of Hamlet's castle, the welcome tidings of fraternal affection and liberty restored," are familiar to most persons, and greater publicity has been lately given to them by the translation of a popular Danish work, under the attractive title of "The Queen of Denmark."

But beneath the more prominent features of the events that attended upon the unfortunate alliance of Carolina Matilda, sister of George III., with Christian VII. of Denmark, there hangs a mystery, which neither Danish nor English writer-neither the "prince of gossips," Horace Walpole, nor the sober compiler of despatches, Archdeacon Coxe; neither the author of the "Memoirs of an unfortunate Queen," nor the editor of the Keith Correspondence now before us; nor, what is still more singular, not that correspondence itself, as now first given to the public, any more than that of the still more chivalrous Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, who, but for her premature death, would have replaced her on the throne from which she had been so cruelly precipitated, have done almost anything to clear up.

The task which Mrs. Gillespie Smyth has set to herself has been to vilify the character of the young monarch-to exhibit him in the light of a heartless young libertine, as at once corrupt, profligate, and imbecile; all of which form the ground-work for an apology rather than of a defence. Thanks to the womanish policy of his step-mother, the Dowager Queen Juliana, who, in imitation of many a sultana validé, enfeebled mind and body to pave the way of her own son Frederick to power, Christian VII. was given up during the first years of his marriage to the company of gay young courtiers, who abetted him in every act of vice and profligacy, and in his latter years he sank into a state of incurable imbecility Of the début and general conduct of this "giddy boy," as Mrs. Gillespie Smyth calls the king, in this country, that lady has given a characteristic sketch, which is corroborated in all material circumstances by Horace Walpole. But amid all the frolics and extravagances committed while in England by this dissipated prince and those servile courtiers who, to gratify their sovereign, flattered every folly, and sought with lamentable avidity, even in the paths of infamy and vice, the means of making themselves useful or agreeable, there are many instances of sense, good-nature, and generosity.

It is said, that wherever real misery met his eye, his hand went spontaneously into his pocket; and if that chanced to be empty, his ring, his

Memoirs and Correspondence (Official and Familiar) of Sir Robert Murray Keith, K.B., Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary at the Courts of Dresden, Copenhagen, and Vienna, from 1769 to 1792, with a Memoir of Queen Carolina Matilda of Denmark; and an Account of the Revolution there in 1772. Edited by Mrs. Gillespie Smyth. 2 vols. Henry Colburn.

watch, or any other valuable about him, was bestowed instead of money. Mrs. Gillespie Smyth also relates that he once saw a poor tradesman put into a hackney-coach by two bailiffs, followed by his weeping wife and family, from whom he was about to be torn and thrown into prison. He ordered Count Molke to follow the coach to the Marshalsea; he paid the debt and costs, and setting the poor man free from every other demand, gave him 500 dollars to enable him to begin the world anew; and on several other occasions he distributed considerable sums among the poor debtors confined in the different gaols of the metropolis.

Whatever may be the opinion to be formed regarding the Queen Carolina Matilda's innocence or guilt, it is certain that some time previous to the explosion brought about by the Queen Dowager and Prince Frederick, that the king and she had been alienated from each other in consequence of his excesses, and it is a curious circumstance that the man to whom an unhappy prominence attaches itself in this story-Count Struensee-laid the ground-work of his future successes, as also of his fall, by undertaking, and for a time succeeding, in reconciling the royal pair.

It is certain also, that when Struensee became lord of the ascendant, that the king was held in a sort of liberal restraint, debarred from the society and intercourse of every one save those placed about him by the minister. He dined in public with the queen, accompanied her in the field sports to which she became so much addicted, and in which her masculine dress and manners excited universal reprobation, not even excepting that of Sir Robert Murray Keith. He appeared at the French and Italian operas, danced at their balls, and took a share in their card-parties; but little, if any, attention was paid to what he said, except so far as his wants were concerned; and all attendants and domestic servants had orders never to speak to the king. Excepting at rare moments, when the former sensibility and vivacity of his character illumined his dimmed eye and pallid cheek, the king existed in reality in a state bordering upon idiotism. Pleased with the puerile amusements that were provided (among which was his dog, Gourmand, upon which he lavished all his affections), he seemed perfectly indifferent to everything else.

This was a sad state of things. The young queen was thus left without protection in a dissolute court, and surrounded by young, handsome, and designing courtiers. It was at this critical moment, in June, 1771 (that is to say, six months previous to the catastrophe), that Colonel Keith abandoned the military career to become minister at the court of Denmark. His first letters to his father complain of the difficulties put in his way to free access to king and queen, and intimates apprehensions of the forthcoming catastrophe, at the same time that he treats the reports, at that time commonly current, as calumnies of the opposition.

The populace love the king, and are extremely averse to the delegation of his power to a man whose rise is so unbecoming. The little incendiaries of opposition (no longer restrained by the rigour of the government) print and publish the most scandalous and infamous libels, and by name threaten the minister. The popular clamour runs high, and the opposition of the nobles, though sluggish and timid, contributes to create a crisis of frenzy in the mob, which may (they think) be justly directed against the position of the minister. In a despotic government, the populace, when pushed beyond the limits of the law, know no bounds; I therefore sincerely hope and pray that all lawless attempts to kindle a flame among them may meet with the punishment they deserve. But if ever it shall unfortunately happen that the lower citizens

shall be brought to signalise their resentment against the principal objects of it, Brandt and Struensee, you, dear sir, will not be surprised if a Danish mob should, in its vengeance, be cruel and sanguinary.

The circumstances under which the arrest of the queen and of the ministers, Brandt and Struensee, took place, are narrated by Mrs. Gillespie Smyth from the well known version given by Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, after the testimony of Carolina Matilda's own valet-de-chambre, Mantel. We do not know, however, from what authority Mrs. Gillespie Smyth says it has been alleged that a secret staircase led from Count Struensee's apartments to those of the queen. The suggestion of the German poet, in his fine tragedy of "Struensee," that Rautzan was, in his implacable persecution of the favourite, avenging a former object of affection seduced and abandoned by that profligate courtier, is more reasonable.

All the letters which are given in reference to this most remarkable event are evidently studiously and conscientiously silent as to the details of events which Mrs. Gillespie Smyth declares to be "too sacred then, and still, for official publicity."

These letters, at the same time that they attest the admirable discretion of the minister, also sufficiently show that the office of endeavouring to shield the head of its destined victim from the malice of faction was one of no slight responsibility, and which demanded the greatest exercise of temper and patience, as well as of dignity and firmness. Colonel Keith solemnly protested against all acts of violence with which the person of the queen, declared guilty of adultery, and of being privy to the poison administered to her husband, seemed to be threatened. According to Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, "he bravely vindicated oppressed innocence in a manner worthy of his character; refuted with much energy her accusers, and concluded with denouncing the vengeance of his nation and the bombardment of Copenhagen, if justice were not done to the sister of his sovereign."

The measures by which these sad events were met with at home by no means indicated perfect satisfaction with the conduct of the queen. The discretion and ability of the minister were, however, at once rewarded with the Order of the Bath, which he was instructed to invest himself with forthwith, and appear at the Danish court. Nor did this discreet and excellent man's labour cease till the young queen was delivered up to him, to be removed to the castle of Zell in Hanover—a concession that was not obtained without renewed menaces, and the actual equipment at home of a formidable naval armament.

When the revulsion of public feeling, as also of the king's sentiments towards the unfortunate queen, opened to the then young and disengaged traveller, Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, the chivalrous project of restoring her at once to a throne and a husband, that enterprising man related of his interview at Zell, that they spoke of the memorable night of the 16th of January, 1772, when she fell a victim to her imprudence and want of precaution. "I would have avoided," he adds, "such a topic for obvious reasons, but she entered on it with so much determination, that I could only listen while she recounted to me all the extraordinary occurrences which befel her; not omitting names and particulars respecting herself and others of the most private nature. I am, however, far from meaning that she made any disclosure unbecoming a woman of honour and delicacy."

Mrs. Gillespie Smyth thinks that the narrator might have spared the last proviso, which is one rather in his peculiar style. "Nor," she adds, "had the consciousness of guilt been to accompany her back to Denmark, would she have been so ready to place her head once more within the jaws of a fate which, conscience must then have whispered, would not be revenge, but retribution." This leaves the question precisely as it stood before; and Sir Robert Murray Keith's official despatches are wanted to clear up the mystery. It is certainly strange, where the evidence is all of a negative character, that neither the minister nor Sir Nathaniel Wraxall should have spoken in more decisive language. It is the absence of firm convictions and indignant repudiations on their part which gives tacit admission to the surmises of the least agreeable character. Be that, however, as it may, it is certain that Carolina Matilda's errors, true or imaginary, have always been looked upon by the Danes with every allowance, and the memory of that amiable princess's endearing virtues and accomplishments have survived in the minds of the sensible and generous part of the nation, the memory of her youthful indiscretions, while the cruel punishment to which she was subjected, is never spoken of but in terms of heartfelt horror and indignation.

THE RED MEN AND THE TRAPPERS.

CALIFORNIA and Oregon once colonised by the indomitable AngloAmericans, and farewell to "Life in the Far West." The great trails of Indians and Spaniards, and the scalping routes of the Coon Creek and Pawnee Fork, will be so many highways across the land; the huge, isolated, granitic rock that marks the watershed of the Pacific and the Atlantic on the trail to Oregon or the "South Pass," and upon which are rudely carved the names of traders, travellers, trappers, and emigrants, will be the site of some great hostelry, and the "Beer and Soda springs" in the Rocky Mountains must eventually become the site of another Saratoga. The gradual extinction of the aborigines is a painful but a certain futurity. Like the buffalo of their native prairies, they everywhere retire before civilisation. Wherever a few white hunters are congregated in a trading port or elsewhere, so sure it is that, if they remain in the same locality, the buffalo will desert the vicinity, whilst the presence of Indians in their pastures appears in no degree to disturb them. In this the Red men affirm the wahkeitcha, or "bad medicine" of the pale faces, is very apparent, and it compels them to encroach upon each other's hunting-grounds, which is a fruitful cause of war, and of mutual extirpation. Reckless, moreover, of the future, in order to prepare robes for the traders, and to procure the pernicious fire-water, they wantonly slaughter every year vast numbers of buffalo cows (the skins of which sex only are dressed), and thus add to the evils in store for them. When questioned on the subject, and reproached with such want of foresight, they answer, that however quickly the buffalo disappears, the Red man goes under" more quickly still; and that the Great Spirit has