tachments. Then there was a wild shout, in which by a long building, which is used as a national Muthe groans of the wounded and dying were lost: seum. The Northern side ought to be joined in "Revenge! liberty or death!" Then an explosion, the same way, but the work is still unfinished. and all was silence again. Both parties were There are four double iron gates opening in the midcounting their dead. Soon the drums beat and an dle of each of the faces. A little to the West of the attempt was made to carry the barricade with the Southern entrance is that window from which bayonet. Charles the IXth. amused himself by shooting his protestant subjects on the day of St. Barthelemy, whilst they were flying over the bridge of arts; and opposite to it is the bridge itself. From the Eastern front, the view extends on a large square. This front is the most beautiful of all. The windows of the lower story are very simple and furnished with Every circumstance contributed to show that the present insurrection was not a mere riot without importance or consequences, which, like a summer storm, disturbs the serenity of the skies but for a few moments. It was a mighty volcano. The dark and ominous cloud of public opinion had been overlooked or slighted. But now, the incandescent iron gratings. The upper story is a gallery of the mass was in motion, and its dreadful work should noblest Corinthian columns, about 60 feet in height not stop till it had buried under torrents of burning and 5 in diameter. They are placed in couples lava the confident and credulous traveller who about 15 or 20 feet distant from each other. The slept in deceitful security upon the fermenting soil. whole is built of the finest stone which the country The insurgents showed by their calmness that they affords. As will appear by this imperfect descripwere not blinded by the mad impulse of the motion, the palace is of very difficult access to any ment, but that they had a final work to accomplish, hostile force. The garrison had been more than and that, in spite of all opposition. They waited doubled and had received, besides the elite of the with their loaded pieces for the impetuous charge. Each one kept his fire till he saw the glittering bayonets within a few inches of his breast: then, they pulled the triggers, and now, strike for justice and liberty! The subsequent incidents of this fight have been erased from my memory. All I recollect is seeing the royal troops driven back, though in good order. The brigade of line retreated as far as the Merchants' bridge, and there halted. But the royal guards abandoned the field and augmented the garrisons of the Louvre and Tuileries. This was an omen of victory, but all was not done. The insurgents at once determined to join those of their brethren already before the Louvre and attack that palace. Abandoning, therefore, the barricade they had formed, they followed the quay in that direction. The soldiery posted on the Merchants' bridge allowed them to depart unmolested. It was with joy that they saw the popular torrent assailing a position which they deemed impregnable, instead of the police barracks, which were of an easy access and contained a vast supply of arms and ammunition. They kept their position all day and the following night; for it was the principal avenue to the place they wanted to protect. Swiss guards, a large detachment of the royal guards, amounting in all to about 500 men, well furnished with ammunition and well trained to the use of arms. Besides, every window, every column, offered them a shelter against the musketry of the enemy, on whom they themselves could fire with perfect ease and security. When the insurgents determined upon attacking the Louvre, they neglected all strategical considerations. The Eastern side of the palace was the strongest, but it opened on a square, the dimensions of which were such as to allow them to extend the front of their forces, and this was enough to overbalance all other circumstances. Before beginning hostilities, they sent summonses to the Governor of the palace; but as it had been foreseen, these summonses were without any effect, and the struggle began. The insurgents fired for some time against their enemies, but they soon discovered the disadvantages of this mode of fighting. The garrison was perfectly secured from their shot, and secondly, from every nook, every window and every column, showers of bullets fell among them with the most dreadful effect; and yet, shall they give up their task? No, never as long as they have blood to shed or life to sacrifice on the altars of their country! All was now quiet before us, but we could hear the continual firing of the attack of the Louvre On, on they rush to the assault. They pour imwhich was carried on at a distance less than a quar-petuously at the main gate. They try to force the ter of a mile from us. windows. But the enemy smile quietly at their The Louvre is an extensive palace, in the shape efforts. From all apertures they are overwhelmed of a perfect square, the centre of which is a large by the withering volleys of experienced marksmen. yard. It was begun by the Medicis, and continued The main gate resists all battering. The gratings under their different successors. Napoleon built of the windows are too strong to give way, and the its principal front, which is turned to the East, columns of attack are obliged to withdraw, when The palace is now destined for the reception of heaps of dead and dying choke all the avenues. works of art from all parts of the world. The They retreat, beaten but undaunted. Every brow Southern side is joined to the palace of the Tuileries is sterner, every hand grasps more firmly the mus ket or the sword. They retreat, but only to take | guards, intrenched in the rooms of the building, breath! disputed the ground inch by inch. Every stairTwice again the assault is repeated with the same case was strewed with the bodies of their foes, and result; the slain cover the field; the blood streams a battle was necessary to conquer every passage. in dark torrents through the streets, and yet the At length, the noise of the fight diminished, and enemy's loss is small. The battle grows fiercer and nothing was now audible but the shouts of the vicfiercer. See this young man, whose long raven tors mingled with the groans of the dying. The hair is concealed beneath a large straw hat. His struggle was over. The Louvre was won! years must be few, for his form is as slender as a girl's, and yet, he rushes into the thickest of the fight. A ball pierces his breast. One of the combatants, moved by a feeling of pity, draws aside his shirt. *O, Liberty, 'tis a woman! The assailants were already preparing to renew the attack for the fourth time, when the sound of a distant drum came mingled with the clamor of a large crowd. But we will transport ourselves to another part of the city. It must be granted that the Swiss guards fought bravely, but they had to pay dearly for it. They neither gave nor received quarter. They were foreigners and mercenaries. They had ruthlessly slaughtered the citizens, and in the hour of retribution, all, except a few who escaped or cried for mercy, were killed. Let it not be thought, however, that there was any inhumanity in the act. Their wounded were treated with the same care as the others, and almost all their prisoners were allowed to escape. Not far distant from the place where the Seine flows out of Paris, is a large plain situated on the In the mean time, General Lafayette, with sevleft side of the river. At the Southern extremity eral deputies of the liberal party, assembled at Mr. of this plain, is the Polytechnic school. The mili- Lafitte's Hôtel. They felt it their duty to give tary spirit of the Institution was yet the same as some legal sanction to the insurrection. A procla in the days of the Empire, notwithstanding the mation was issued and signed by them, approving efforts of the Bourbons to crush it. At the first of the steps taken by the people. This was a bold news of the tumult, General — who was then measure, for the result of the struggle was dubious; commander of the school, had the doors shut and and if the Royal party got the better, as it was posgave notice to the pupils that they should have to sible and even probable, the lives of the subscribers remain in quarters. But when the cause of this of the proclamation would be forfeited. Neverorder was known, every one girded on his sword, theless, General Lafayette's name was carried as a and, in a few minutes, they scaled the wall which countersign through the popular ranks and kindled confined them and directed their footsteps towards a new ardor among them. the field of battle. A tri-colored flag was soon There still remained several important positions found. On their way they passed before the Hôtel to attack, but the day was too far advanced. Both of the invalid soldiers, and it is a well-authentica- parties took measures for the night. The people ted fact, that several of these old veterans, most as well as the troops posted sentinels every where. of whom were totally disabled, followed once more The wounded were collected at several places, and the standard of liberty to another battle. One of medical attendance was speedily procured for them. them, whose right leg had been left in the deserts The brigade of line stationed on the Merchants' of Russia or the fields of Waterloo, was afterwards bridge kindled a bivouac fire and spent the night killed on the bridge of Arts while fighting for his there. country's freedom. The patriotic column of the Polytechnic pupils was every where greeted and joined by the inhabitants of the left side of the Seine. They followed one of the streets parallel to the river, until they got to the height of the bridge of Arts, when, turning to the left, they covered this bridge with their close phalanx. As I said before, the bridge is exactly in front of the Southern entrance of the Louvre, which is far from being as strong as the others. Their first fire killed a few men at the gate, whilst this diversion gave a new vigor to the efforts of the former assailants. About fifty of them seized a long beam, which was lying by some unfinished building, and running it with all their might against the Eastern gate, they at length succeeded in breaking it open. At the same time the insurgents entered the Southern gate. Their numerous cohorts now poured in like a stream, but the Swiss All this time Charles the Tenth was at Rambouillet hunting deer. A courier brought him the news of the day, viz: that his Royal Guards had been beaten and his Swiss guards partly destroyed : that the palace of the Louvre was in the possession of the rebels, and that the next day would bring forth an attack on his own royal palace of the Tuileries. "Pshaw!" cried he, "a few brigades of police will disperse that mob! Gentlemen, let us spur on, or we'll be too late to see the stag at bay." This was doubtless a merry way of losing a kingdom. The deluded despot despised a revolution, in which even women took a part against him, and which made the poet exclaim, Alors, tout se leva: l'homme, l'enfant, la femme, Quiconque avait un bras, quiconque avait une âme! "And thus was the first day." And I became a mockery, and fell GROUPED THOUGHTS AND SCATTERED FANCIES. A COLLECTION OF SONNETS. Into the yellow leaf before my time; A sacrifice, even in my earliest prime, To that which thinn'd the heavens and peopled hell! By the Author of "Atalantis," "Southern Passages and How few will understand us at the best, Pictures," &c. LXI. Days vanish, and still other days arise, Like these to disappear,--and still we crave, From time indulgence,--with a yawning grave Beneath us, that, with ceaseless utterance cries,"Ye ripen fast for me--the moment flies When ye should ripen for eternity; Be diligent, if ye would take the prize, Wrought for performance in humility, In exercise of goodness make ye wise, Each toiling in his station as is meet; For still, however slow, the hours will fleet Too fast for the most diligent! Your eyes, Will close on mightiest projects, still unwrought, That were the favorite creatures of your thought." LXII. Is it not lovely, while the day flows on Like some unnoticed water through the vale, Of groves deserted late, but lately won? While, leaping onward, with a voice of cheer, Glad as some schoolboy ever on the bound, The lively Swanannoa sparkles near ;-A flash and murmur mark him as he roves, Now foaming white o'er rocks, now glimpsing soft through groves. XLIII. Somers,--if to thy courts the robin comes In noon-day yellow, with a thoughtless song Till he has pleased to yield her ears again ;If these surround thy footsteps, nor complain;If, in thy walks, the timorous dove appears, Timorous no longer, nor inclined to flee;-If these unharmed ones thus speak with me,-Thou hast an evidence that nobly cheers, And with no scruple I award it thee. LXIV. Thou wilt remark my fate when I am dead, How few, so yield their sympathies, to know, What cares have robb'd us of our nightly rest, How stern our trial, how complete our wɔ,-And how much more our doom it was than pride, To toil in devious ways with none who loved beside. LXV. My child, my innocent child,--when I am gone, Strangers and time will have untaught thee all, Thy father's love, his care for thee alone, Surviving hope's defeat and fortune's fall; And I shall leave behind me nought that may Teach thee thy loss, unless it be my song, And that, perchance, will scarcely linger long To keep my memory coupled with my lay! Sad lay, invoked by sorrow, tuned by wrong: But, rude and harsh, still coupled with one tone, To spell the ears of love, and, in the soul, When days are happiest, to awaken thought, Which pleasure cannot hush, nor pride control, Of him, by whom thy lessons first were taught. LXVI. There is a mood that sometimes makes us cry There is no terror in the solemn knell, Beneath us, the poor leaf and flow'r which dread The blight of winter, and the recoiling springs That shiver as the wind sweeps overhead :- Sterile but proud, beneath her own blue sky, The proofs of her great magic ;-magic wrought, By genius, on the stern and shapeless thought, Which thenceforth took a form that cannot fear Whatever Time may threaten. Overthrow Her altars, yet how certain that the God, Still from the eminence sends her breath abroad Spelling the nations with her soul alone; The soul that makes soil sacred, and from earth, Triumphant plucks the doom of death that came with birth. LXVIII. We are no more a people of the free; A thing of hope and wonder, and have set The childish wants of fashion, and a crowd Patience, and inward struggle, yield the prize, Meek and submissive; and the ocean foam Unroused by tempests; and the obedient sea, Nor yet the anxious leash which Terror's hand tomb. Nor did he sink beneath this subject, except as compared with Bossuet. The sermon to which my allusion will be understood, is by many esteemed the finest effort of this preacher: but if read together with that of its prototype, it will be laid aside, as almost feeble and unimpressive." The allusion is evidently to Robert Hall's sermon on the death of the Princess Charlotte. Hav. ing read this, I could hardly credit its inferiority to what Mr. Hallam styles its prototype, which I had not then seen. But my former curiosity to read these celebrated funeral discourses was stimulated by this extravagant eulogy of so able a critic. Accordingly, I seized the earliest opportunity which offered, of procuring these most splendid specimens of French eloquence. I cannot say that I was disappointed in them; for they are certainly productions of rare genius, full of noble sentiments, striking thoughts, expressed in glowing and sublime language. So much was I impressed with this, that I was much inclined to translate two or three of the most celebrated "oraisons" for the columns of the Messenger, if the editor would have admitted any thing of that description. But with all my admiration for Bossuet, I could not discover his vast superiority to Hall. It may be my want of taste, or insufficient knowledge of the French language; but certain it is, that no comparison which I have instituted can make me regard ductions of a man, who, among the English writers as feeble and unimpressive" one of the finest prowith whom I am acquainted, stands decidedly first, with, perhaps, the single exception of Thomas Babington Macaulay. 66 Being thus compelled to differ with so eminent a critic as Mr. Hallam, I have thought that a compa BOSSUET AND ROBERT HALL. rison between the two productions in question might In glancing over Mr. Hallam's exceedingly interesting work on the literature of Europe, I was struck with the following note in that portion of the work which treats of the celebrated “ Oraisons Funèbres" of Bossuet. not prove entirely uninteresting to your readers. Funeral discourses may have two objects, either the dead, the other the moral improvement of the combined or separate, one a tribute to the merits of survivors. The former was the prominent design of those funeral eulogies, which were delivered among the Greeks, Romans and other Pagan na"An English preacher of conspicuous renown tions. The latter ought to be, although unfortu for eloquence was called upon, within no great nately it is not always the main purpose of Chris length of time, to emulate the funeral discourse of tian funeral sermons. The tribute of admiration Bossuet on the sudden death of Henrietta of Or- which is paid to the memory of those who have leans. He had before him a subject incomparably enlightened mankind by genius, relieved their wants more deep in interest, more fertile in great and by benevolence, or defended the just cause by valor, touching associations; he had to describe not the generous and useful as may be the impulse which false sorrows of courtiers, not the shriek of sudden leads us to pay that tribute, is certainly a matter of surprise that echoed by night in the halls of Ver- insignificance, when compared with the religious seilles, not the apochryphal penitence of one so impressions which pious eloquence may make on tainted by the world's intercourse, but the manly hearts softened in the furnace of affliction, and grief of an entire nation in the withering of those which may remain indelible throughout eternity. visions of hope which wait on the untried youth of The difference is as wide as that between the span Royalty, in its sympathy with grandeur annihilated, of the present life, and that life beyond the grave with beauty and innocence precipitated into the which is "unmeasured by the flight of years." The eloquence which is mainly directed to this latter object, acquires a solemn earnestness and moral sublimity, which no eulogy of earthly great ness can ever attain. depart from their fundamental principles; when Catholics do it, they only come up to their principles. Hence we can perceive, why Bossuet, with his religious opinions, which he knew to be those of the court, in whose presence he was speaking, should have attached far two much religious importance to what Mr. Hallam has termed the "Apocryphal penitence of one so tainted by the world's intercourse." Hall was led into this fault neither by his own opinions, nor by the temptations of his situation. He knew that neither penance, nor alms, nor other good deeds could smooth the path of even royalty to heaven. He neither feared nor hoped any thing from the court. While, therefore, he did ample justice to the virtues of the lamented Princess, he had no motive to exaggerate them, except that which would have influenced every generous and feeling heart under the same circum In this respect it may be safely asserted, that Bossuet falls below Hall, by directing more attention to an elaborate panegyric on the departed, and less to the eternal interests of the survivors. I, of course, do not mean to affirm that Bossuet has left practical improvement of the occasion entirely out of view. On the contrary, it must be admitted, that he has many just and striking reflections, many sublime ideas on eternity, some of which Hall may have borrowed. But I affirm that a far larger portion of his discourse is devoted to praise of the dead and flattery of the living, than Hall has given to his justly deserved eulogium of the Princess Charlotte, and expressions of condolence with her family. This difference is not only real and appa-stances. rent, but the reasons for it are obvious. It has been justly said by Macaulay in one of his unrivalled essays, (I quote not his words, but ideas,) that men of the highest genius, while they leave their impress on the age in which they live, never fail to receive a reciprocal impress from it. They are the mountain-tops which are illuminated some minutes earlier than the vallies by that light which is soon equally diffused over hill and dale. This remark is true only of those who, possessing the highest powers, devote them to great intellectual and moral reforms. But Bossuet, with his confessedly great abilities, had neither the inclination nor power to mark out a new path for himself. Despite his genius and piety, for I mean not to question his possession of the latter, Bossuet was a monarchist, a Catholic and a courtier. He is said to have written the ablest defence of Catholic principles extant, a defence, however, it is asserted, made good if at all by abandoning some of the most untenable positions of Catholicism. Bossuet was a courtier and an advocate of divine right, in an age distinguished for servility and adulation. I do not suspect him of a temper so base as would have made him pander to his master's worst passions. But flattery is an infection, which even the noblest and purest natures can not avoid in the atmosphere of a court. No man can read Bossuet's discourse on the death of Henrietta of Orleans, without perceiving that he is deeply tainted. Hall lived in an age and under circumstances widely different. In his time, servility was not the order of the day in England, and even if it had been at court, he was in no situation to make him servile. He was neither tutor of the king's son, nor promoted by the king's bounty. He belonged to a sect which had ever denied the right of government to interfere with religion, and which had the glory of first proclaiming and acting upon those principles of universal toleration which the great Locke set forth so admirably forty years after in his unanswerable letters. It is true that Hall had won the admiraIf he did not advise Louis to that most execrable tion of the younger Pitt, who pronounced a pasmeasure, the revocation of the edict of Nantes, he sage in one of his sermons before a body of voluncertainly did not dissuade him from a step so atro- teer soldiers, "equal to any thing either in ancient cious and unwise. By these statements I do not or modern eloquence." But he owed this high mean to insinuate that the entertainment of Catho-praise to the real splendor of his genius, and the lic opinions precludes a man from being very elo- exalted sentiments of patriotism which the passage quent and very pious, but merely to show that contained, and not to any effort which he had ever Bossuet was not exempt from the frailties and pre-made to conciliate power. It was known that he jadices of his age, growing out of Catholic bigotry had advocated liberal sentiment in politics with all and intolerance. As a Catholic, I maintain that he his characteristic acuteness, perspicuity and power was more prone to exaggerate the alleged excel- of language. He had, therefore, nothing to fear or lencies of human character. Protestants believe hope from the court, but was left free to make a that man can not do enough to save himself; Catho- proper use of the occasion, by paying a spontalics that he can do more, and that he can spare neous tribute to the memory of the dead, and fixing from his treasury of good works alms, as it were, the minds and hearts of the living on the frail nature for his poorer neighbors. It is natural, therefore, of the brightest hopes of earthly happiness and that Catholics, when they mean to eulogize, should grandeur. Supposing their genius to have been claim a higher degree of excellence for the objects equal, the circumstances mentioned would have of their praise than Protestants believe attainable. given the Englishman a decided advantage. When Protestants exalt any one to perfection, they There is another point too in which, and it is |