more easily supplied; but to insure a comfortable subsistence no inconsiderable degree of exertion is requisite. A good economist of labour and of money, possessing a practical knowledge of husbandry, who can command from 1000 to 20001. and who comes properly provided, with steady men, cannot fail of succeeding."

These observations are meant to apply only to the most eligible parts of the colony, and have no reference to the new settlement in Algoa Bay, of which the author does not give an encouraging description. We will not attempt to abridge this part of the volume, but earnestly recommend it to the perusal of such of our readers as are desirous of forming an estimate of the probable success of the new establishment, from the impartial statements of an intelligent eye-witness.

The chapter on Cape Town is very amusing: though there is occasionally a tone of exaggeration, which appears to be indulged in for the sake of giving effect. In his observations on slavery, for instance, we are surprised that the author should have so far departed from fact in representing these unhappy creatures as excluded from the consolations of religion; and that a slave (as such) is not permitted to become a Christian at the Cape." The truth is, that their masters are very anxious to get them baptized in order to detach them from the corrupted Malay Mahometanism which prevails amongst them; the evil tendency of which upon their morals and conduct is so evident, that policy and prudence, in the absence of better motives, would urge the masters to call in the beneficial influence of Christianity.

The chapter concludes with a description of the Table Mountain, which affords another sample of the spirit and feeling which we have remarked upon as so often animating this writer's sketches with much of the soul of poetry.

"There is a chasm of great depth in the Table Mountain, through which, following the bed that the torrents have worn for themselves, the ascent may with some difficulty be achieved. On approaching the summit, the chasm gra dually closes in upon you, and the toil increases every moment; but here, ready to sink with fatigue, the pedestrian (at least if he be foolish enough to attempt this expedition in mid-day as I did) will be in ecstasies at hearing the splashing of water. Large round drops falling one by one from an immense height-like tears wrung from the hard rock-have worn for themselves a little basin below, where they lie so cold and pure, that Diana herself would not dread staining her lips in such delicious nectar. There is neither cross, nor cup, nor inscriptjon, however; for there are no pilgrims here."

The last chapter of the book is on St. Helena; which will be read with the more interest at the present moment, as it gives a lively picture of Napoleon Bonaparte in his exile.

"Napoleon carefully avoids all observation-a weakness that seems hardly worthy of a great man, who might be supposed thoroughly indifferent to the idle gaze of curiosity, which cannot be frequent enough in St. Helena to be really obtrusive. Perhaps it is a last resource, where other helps are wanting, to maintain something like dignity and personal interest; for kings and emperors look prodigiously like other men upon close inspection. Misfortunes, moreover, have something sacred in them, when endured in privacy, as if disdaining the consolations of human pity and condolence; and the spirit that will not commune with its kind has generally credit for high and lofty feelings, that have placed it above life's weakness and its comforts too.' People here ascribe this conduct

to a less dignified motive, namely, his displeasure at the appointment of Sir Hudson Lowe; for on his first arrival he was by no means averse to society;-~ be this as it may, Napoleon keeps aloof from all but his own suite, and one half of the garrison have never seen him. From the same motive, it is presumed, he has entirely left off riding (formerly a favourite exercise), though the island affords a retired ride of about nine miles in extent.

"Of the arrangement and distribution of his time, his domestic habits and occupations, I was enabled to collect the following particulars. He rises with the sun; at six o'clock he is in his garden, where he employs himself till breakfast, either in working, or directing the operations of several Chinese whom he has at his disposal. Between breakfast and dinner he passes some hours in his study; and it is thought he is busied in preparing historical memoirs for the press. At three o'clock he walks, but never exceeds the boundary of his garden, the wall of which screens him from observation. His dinner is served up at four, and at this meal he is commonly attended by Count Montholon, and sometimes by General Bertrand. This is the only society he ever indulges in, to enliven his evenings, and render confinement more tolerable. Gardening is the occupation in which he appears to take peculiar delight -an occupation well suited to the silent dignity of melancholy, and to which kings have often had recourse in their retirement or misfortunes. Without being too laborious, it is sufficient to prevent the mind from incessantly brooding over its own miseries."

"A square patch of ground, of about an acre in extent, enclosed with a mud wall, is the principal theatre of the labours of Napoleon. Through this plot runs a straight gravel walk, at one end of which is fixed in the ground a rustic wooden chair, painted green, and before it a stone table; at this he frequently dines alone upon the plainest food, withdrawing afterwards to a bower at the other extremity to take his coffee, and arrange his plans for the ensuing day. To facilitate the operation of watering he had cut a little channel down the middle of the walk, by which the water was conveyed from a spring to several round holes, about two feet in depth, dug purposely to receive it. Here, in a flowered dressing gown, his green slippers, and his head bound round with a crimson silk handkerchief, may be found the once mighty Emperor, wielding a watering-pot, turning up the soil, or culling simples."

"Here, at least, is a new study of the Ex-emperor: instead of venting his discontent in useless murmurs, or nursing it in sullen indignation, we find him philosophically resigned to the turns of fate; and, instead of dethroning kings, crushing empires, and planting new dynasties, quietly employed in untenanting snail-shells, demolishing worms, and setting cabbages. His friends may, perhaps, fondly contemplate in him a second Cincinnatus, leaning on his spade till his country shall again command his services; while he, perhaps, like Dioclesian, already prefers his cabbages to the purple. I walked up and down this scene of imperial gardening with considerable interest, trying, but in vain, to discover some marks of the master-hand. It was a very kitchen-garden, in the most homely sense of that word; and the genius that produced such transcendant effects upon the plains of Austerlitz and Marengo, seems to have served him but little in his encounters with earth and stones."

"Napoleon still occasionally acts the Emperor; the rags of royalty cleave to. him like the tunic of Nessus. When Admiral Plampin waited upon him in form, on arriving on the station, he received him with his hat on, his arms folded, and, after exchanging a few words, the admiral remaining standing, Napoleon turned upon his heel and broke up the conference. Lord Charles Somerset, on his way from the Cape, sent in his name, with a request that he might be permitted to pay his respects in person. His lordship's servant was dismissed with this only message-that there was no answer.”

"Bonaparte has no chapel either in his new or old mansions; but an altar is

fitted up in one of the rooms of his new house, and appropriated to the celebration of mass on Sunday, at which he invariably assists. What the religious opinions of Napoleon are, or whether he has adopted from study and reflection any settled opinions of his own upon this subject, it would be difficult to ascer tain. Probably, though he encouraged the established religion in France, as a means of maintaining social order and a subjection to constituted authorities, he was himself indifferent as to any peculiar system of worship, but thought with Rousseau, that homage was equally acceptable to the Deity, under whatever form it might be presented. The man who in publicly addressing the Mufti, in the pyramid of Cheops, adopted the usual Mahommedan salutation of Glory to Allah! there is no true God but God, and Mahomet is his Prophet,' &c. was at all events no very rigorous disciple of Christianity. In his address, however, to the deputation of clergymen who waited upon him at Breda, we find him talking of having met in Bossuet, and the maxims of the Gallican church, with principles that, agreeing with his own, had prevented his being a Protestant." The text upon which he dwells on that occasion (and which was, perhaps, the fundamental principle of his Christianity,) is, 'Give unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's.' He tells them, 'I am of the religion of Jesus Christ, who said, Give unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's; and, conformably to the rules of the same Gospel, I give unto God the things that are God's. Cæsar's share he certainly exacted with rigorous scrupulosity: what he gave to God it would be less easy to discover. However, misfortunes may perchance have changed his hand and checked his pride;' for we now see him attentive to the forms of worship, and to exercises of piety, when his example can be no longer imposingwhen his indifference would pass unregarded."

We have given these extracts at length, because we think that all authentic information relating to this extraordinary being will be collected and read with increasing interest, as the prejudices and passions of the present time begin to subside. Posterity will regard him with more astonishment than ourselves who have seen his beginning and his end.

"When that his body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a space;
But now two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough!"

STANZAS TO A BEAUTY.

TRANSCENDANT Being! say-ah! tell me whence-
From what bright region of ethereal day,
Come thy fair features-mild intelligence,
Like a young Iris formed by Beauty's ray-

And uncompounded of our base material clay!
Art thou a fairy vision from the sky,

Sent down to cheer this gloomy world below?
Or Houri-from Elysian fields on high,

The place where Musulmen desire to go

Where purest love abounds, and lasting raptures flow?
Ah, no! those dimpling smiles, that cheerful play
Around thy rosy lips and mantling cheek,
That bosom's throb, those eyes that gazing slay,
Thee still a creature of our earth bespeak-

Proclaim thee human still-and still as woman-weak!
Oh, thou art form'd, all tenderness and love,
To be an helpmate to one here below-
Though beauteous as angelic souls above,
To bid some mortal's cup of bliss o'erflow-
Inspiring joys, alas! I perhaps may never know!

JOURNAL OF A TOURIST.

It has been observed, that were seven different people to visit the same quarter of Rome on the same day, and publish what they had seen, their accounts would probably be all different-so various are the associations which that city suggests, and so much do the impressions produced even by physical objects, depend on the temperament of those who contemplate them. In a minor degree, the same observation may be extended to objects much more accessible, and infinitely less pregnant with recollections, than Rome. When Goldsmith proposed an addition to the Literary Club, because the existing members knew the extent of one another's minds, Dr. Johnson indignantly exclaimed-" I promise you, Sir, you have not yet half got to the bottom of mine;" and without the vanity of even disclaiming any comparison with that powerful intellect, I will venture to assert, that no man of ordinary observation, if he will give a faithful transcript of his mind, as he journeys through new scenes, can fail to produce something worthy of perusal, even although his course should have "moved on the broad way and the beaten track." One need not travel from Dan to Beersheba to find subjects for the pen; and as a worthy bibliopolist has lately published an excursion from London to Richmond, which, to my taste, is incalculably more interesting than the two Voyages to the untrodden regions of Baffin's Bay, notwithstanding the attractions of copies of the log-book and long tables of lunar observations, I am not without hopes that a trip by the ordinary route from London to Italy may be made perusable, even if it possesses no other merit than that of recording, in the language that first occurred, the impressions of the moment, as they flitted across the author's mind. Life, Sir, has few things better than this," said Dr. Johnson, as he was travelling at a brisk rate in a post-chaise; and certain it is that the excitement of rapid motion, and a quick succession of objects, is highly gratifying to all minds; while to men of hypochondriacal or phlegmatic constitutions, by acting as a wholesome stimulant, it probably affords a double portion of enjoyment. Is it on this account that the English are so fond of celerity in travelling, and that so many dull and listless loungers are as anxious to gain five minutes in flying to Brighton, as if their time were really worth saving? Such is our overweening self-conceit, that we think it impossible we should be guilty of inconsistencies which we can so easily detect in others; and yet, without a single motive for hurry, I felt impatient to be at Dover.-MEM. To think a little more of my own foibles, and a little less of other people's.

As we travelled through the smiling fields of Kent, richly cultivated to the very edge of the road, hops and corn waving on every side in healthy luxuriance, and apparently ready to pour out their wealth into the laps of their proprietors, I could not help reflecting on the Tantalus-like fate of the cultivators, who, from the ruinous price of agricultural produce, are fated to starve in the midst of plenty; or, to use a more appropriate phrase, are in imminent danger of dying of a plethora. More than once did I repeat to myself

the four well-known lines beginning, "Sic vos non vobis ;" and I thought of the arms assumed by Tasso, to reproach the ingratitude of his patron-a bee-hive destroyed for its honey, with the motto"Evil for good." Such is the disjointed and unnatural state of England, that it is not easy to foresee a remedy for this alternation of misery between the manufacturer and the agriculturist, one of which classes can only be relieved at the expense of the other, thus keeping both, as an alliterative friend of mine expresses it, in a round robin of ruin, and a successive see-saw of starvation. Like an enormous millstone round the neck of the nation, the public debt drags every thing from its equilibrium; and so long as we endeavour to support its entire weight, we shall be destined, I am afraid, to illustrate the fate of the pig who cut his own throat in endeavouring to keep his head above water. Symptoms of a change in our system begin, however, to manifest themselves. Cries of "Nemo tenetur ad impossibile" have been raised in Parliament, and received with acclamations; those who make the laws are necessarily landholders, and the result of a contest between the agricultural and funded interests, cannot be doubtful. Already have the former repealed the horse-tax against all the influence of the minister, and, having thus felt their strength, it is not likely they will relax in their efforts; nor, if self-preservation be the first law of nature, can they fairly be blamed for throwing other people's property overboard instead of their own, when the state vessel is in danger of foundering. How well do I remember, when the Pilot who weathered the storm, or as he is sometimes termed with Hibernian felicity" the immortal statesman now no more," levelled every variety of contemptuous sneer, taunt, and ridicule against the French nation, for their want of credit, while he magnified the power and blessings which England enjoyed from the inexhaustibility of her financial resources. Alas! like the wonders to be wrought by his Sinking-fund, the blessings have disappeared,-the burdens remain: England is struggling with difficulties which she never can surmount but by a violation of faith with the public creditor; while France, after all the repayments and contributions exacted in two quick succeeding conquests, is in a more flourishing financial condition than any country of the world.-MEM. Not to write about politics or political economy in future, for we have been lately satiated with the subject in England, and in France it is reckoned "contra bonos mores."

Arrived at Dover, and learned, to our infinite disappointment, that the steam-boat, by which we intended to cross, had met with an accident at Calais, and could not be repaired for some months. Aware of the prejudice existing among "the old shipping interest" against this most delightful innovation, I inquired where I could find any person connected with it, but was universally informed, that it was conducted by a stranger, and that no friends belonging to the establishment were living at Dover. Distrusting every person lounging about the beach, or attired in blue trowsers, I betook myself to respectable tradesmen, as far as possible from the perfidious ocean: they were unanimous as to the vessel having been