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lowing remarks on Rousseau's character, silent observer of the varied scenes he had and the circumstances by which it was

witnessed. He had, for the last ten years, formed, strike us as important and

been initiated in the mysteries of Parisian original :

society, then at its most profligate period; and his quick and comprehensive understand

ing had seized the complicated system of -: "The effects that Rousseau produced, and vices, in all their disastrous consequences, the extravagances, both of thought and con- with which it teemed. He saw that system, duct, into which he plunged—that is, his and, with the help of his imagination, in all genius and his inconsistencies are - it has

its deformity. But Rousseau's aversion to always struck us, to be traced to one or two the disorders that he afterwards signalised obvious singularities in his condition, which

himself in denouncing, had this singularity, have not been sufficiently observed upon, that it appears, in the first instance, to have either by his present historian, or by any of been almost entirely an intellectual repugthe preceding writers, whether friends or foes,

nance. Perhaps to assert that it was not a who have laboured to explain, or to expose moral sentiment, may seem either a perverthe character of this extraordinary man. The

sion of language, or at best a pedantic dismost striking of these peculiarities was the tinction; but when we remember the history utter want of coincidence between his theo

and the habits, both previous and subsequent, retic maxims, and bis temperament and of the man, it appears clearly to have behabits. His education was irregular and longed rather to that class of moral sentivicious. In his infancy he was turned adrift ments, which result from the conclusions of upon the world, with no other guides than

a vigorous understanding (or more correctly the passions of his age, and the licentious

speaking, perhaps, may be called those conexamples that surrounded bim. For many

clusions themselves), than to the instinctive 1 years he continued a vagabond and an ad

movements of an habitually virtuous mind. d.venturer, sometimes so needy as to pass the Thus by the time that Rousseau's philosophi1 night without house or food-inevitably con- cal opinions were formed, his personal morals tracting the vices of each successive mode of

were gone; and it was his fate to commence life upon which he chanced to be fung, but

his public career, inveterately attached, by 1. ever, as he has stated it himself, finding con- taste and temperament, to many of the li

solation, under the severest privations, in the centious indulgences, against which he vehew ideal anticipations of a sensual imagination. mently, and, we do think, very sincerely inE' Before his twentieth year, he had been suic- veighed. This view, we imagine, will go si cessively apprenti greffier, graveur, laquais, pretty far towards explaining several of the Da valet-de-chambre, séminariste, interprète, singularities in his works, and his life."-pp.

d'un archimandrite, secrétaire du cadastre, 121-126. maître de musique." (i. p. 41.) At that

age 2. he found a resting-place; but, as if it were fated that his morals were to be benefitted

There are also some personal remi. by no change of fortune, the residence of his niscences of Barry the painter, whom our • protectress became the scene where the last author, then a mere boy, had met a little it remnant of virtuous restraint, that had sur- before his death. The notice is, in many

vived his wanderings, was to be sacriticed to respects, interesting, and in one is im. I her example, and deliberate invitation.

portant, as correcting the notion of "Such was the commencement and con- Barry's having died in the extreme summation of Rousseau's moral education; destitution that had been supposed. and it is little to be wondered at, if, in the

At the period of his death an annuity result, he became, to every practical purpose, irretrievably enervated by the corrupt

had been purchased for him ; " and manners and habits amidst which his youth

this recognition of his claims cheered was passed. But his intellectual character

his latter days. He determined on was not so quickly decided. The growth of

removing to a house sufficiently spahis faculties, it appears, was unusually slow ;

cious for the execution of a series of up to the age of thirty-nine his talents were epic paintings that he had long been unknown to his friends, and almost to him- meditating.'

In this dream Death self. He had previously, it is true, obscure found him. intimations of his strength from visitations Of Barry's strange mode of life acof ambitious reverie--the inquietude of genius counts have been before given. The was about him ; but up to the very moment

most remarkable till the present was of the explosion of his mind, neither Rousseau himself, nor any who had known him, ever

one of a visit by Mr. Southey. Cur.

ran when he was taken to see the anticipated the career that was before him. At last he became an author, being now on

great Barry was a mere boy; and the verge of forty. By this time his ex

with the word " great" had associated perience of life, in all its forms, had been ideas of dignity and opulence. What great. He had been an acute, though a was his surprise when he came upon

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the actual den in which the old magi- Jaques Rousseau, whom he resembled in cian lived.

many other less enviable particulars, le seemed to have a taste for fine linen. His

shirt was not only perfectly clean, but equally “The area was bestrewn with skeletons genteel in point of texture, with even a touch of cats and dogs, marrow-bones, waste-paper, of dandyism in the elaborate plaiting of the fragments of boys'. hoops, and other play- frills. On the whole, his costume gave the things, and with the many kinds of missiles, idea of extreme negligence without uncleanwhich the pious brats of the neighbourhood liness. had hurled against the unhallowed premises. "His person was below the middle size, A dead cat lay upon the projecting stone of sturdy and ungraceful. You could see at the parlour window, immediately under a once that he had never practised bowing to sort of appeal to the public, or a proclama- the world. His face was striking. An Ention setting forth, that a dark conspiracy glishman would call it an Irish, an Irishman existed for the wicked purpose of molesting a Munster face; but Barry's had a character the writer, and injuring his reputation, and independent of national or provincial pecuconcluding with an offer of some pounds as liarities. It had vulgar features, but no a reward to any one who should give such vulgar expression. It was rugged, austere, information as might lead to the detection and passion-beaten ; but the passions traced and conviction of the offenders. This was there were those of aspiring thought, and in Barry's hand-writing, and occupied the unconquerable energy, asserting itself to the place of one pane of glass. The rest of the last, and sullenly exulting in its resources. framework was covered with what I had Of this latter feeling, however, no symptoms once imagined to be necromantic devices-- broke out on the present occasion. His two some of his own etchings, but turned upside visitors were old friends, heartily attached to down, of his great paintings at the Adelpi. his fame; and neither of them had ever Young as I was, I was not insensible to the handled a brush. He greeted them with moral of the scene. I was ignorant at the Irish vehemence and good-humour, and in time whether what I saw had been wantonly the genuine intonations of his native proprovoked, or whether it was cruel and ca- vince. His friends smiled at his attire. He pricious vengeance for non-conformity to observed it, and joined in the laugh. It popular observances; but whichever might was,' he said, “his ordinary working-dress, be the case, the spectacle before me engraved except the cap, which he lately adopted to upon my inexperienced mind an important act as a shade for his eyes when he engraved truth, which I have subsequently had too at night.' They told him, they had come many occasions to apply, that genius, how- to see the recent specimens of his art, and ever rare, without temper and conduct, is particularly his Pandora. He answered, one of the most disastrous privileges, to that they should see that, and everything which man in his mistaken ambition can else in the house. We proceeded to the aspire.

staircase, when Barry, suddenly recollecting " While I was unconsciously laying in himself, turned back and double-locked the these materials for after-reflection, my friends street-door. The necessity of this precaugave a second and londer knock. It was tion seemed to bring a momentary gloom answered by almost as loud a growl from into his looks, but it passed away, and he the second floor window. We looked up, mounted cheerfully before us. He opened and beheld a head thrust out, surmounted the door of the back-room on the first floor, by a hunting-cap, and wearing in front a and entered first to clear away the cobwebs set of coarse and angry features, while a before us. The place was full of engravings, voice, intensely Irish, in some hasty phrases sketches, and casts, confusedly heaped tomade up of cursing and questioning, de- gether, and clotted with damp and dust. manded our names and business. Before my The latter he every now and then removed companions bad time to answer, they were by a vigorous slap with the skirt of his coat. recognised. In went the head and hunting- There were some engravings there that he cap and surly visage; in a few seconds the valued highly. ( forget the subjects, but I door was opened, and I was introduced to perfectly recollect the ardour, and the occathe celebrated Barry. I well remember his sional delicacy and tenderness of manner, dress and person, and can recall, almost with which he explained their beauties. without an effort, the minutest details of He apologised for the disorder around him, this, and of my subsequent interviews with which arose, he said, from want of space, for him. The hunting-cap was still on, but on he could trust nothing in the front-room. a nearer view, I perceived that the velvet The observation introduced the subject of the covering had been removed — nothing but molestation of his premises. He spoke withthe bare and unseemly skeleton remained. out much emotion of his mischievous neighHe wore a loose, thread-bare, claret-coloured bours, and detailed his fruitless efforts to great-coat, that reached to his heels, black counteract their schemes of annoyance, pretty waistcoat, black et ceteras, grey worsted much as a man would recount his defensive stockings, coarse unpolished shoes with operations against rats, or any other domesleathern thongs, no neckcloth, but, like Jean- tic nuisance. In the course of the conversation, he explained the cause of the solitude in which he lived. While going over the plates executed by himself, he pointed out one or two that he had detected his last maid-servant in the act of purloining. He hinted that she must have been corrupted by the enemies of his fame ; at all events, he expelled her forthwith, and never after admitted another within his doors. Some specimens of art lay in his bed-chamber-the back-room on the second-floor. He took us

up there, but I forbear a minute description. For the honour of genius, I would forget the miserable truckle upon which a man, whose powers were venerated by Edmund Burke, lay down to forget his privations and his pride."—pp. 171-176.

We wish that we had room for further extracts from these very pleasing and instructive volumes, but we have exceeded our space.

ALBERICO PORRO; A TALE OF THE MILANESE REVOLUTION OF 1848.-PART M.

BY AN OFFICER OF TIE SARDINIAN SERVICE.

CHAPTER XII. THE MEETING.

"No man who was not born in Italy, in Poland, or in any country fallen to the same depth of misery and degradation, can form an idea of the bitterness the subjection of one's country bears with it. It deadens a man's heart to all other political considerations -- it blinds him to all the real failings and shortcomings of his countrymen. He insists that no fair play is ollowed them ; that all their vices and crimes should be ascribed to their oppressors ; no mild or conciliatory measure can assuage his resentment."--Italy in 1848. It was a cold winter night in the turned down a narrow court, and cau. month of December of the year 1847. tiously knocked at the door of an old During the whole of the day a heavy and seemingly dilapidated building, fall of snow had covered the streets of which one would have thought was un. Milan with a sheet of white, but to- inhabited. The knock was a peculiar wards evening a rer of rain had one, and notwithstanding the advanced succeeded, and swept almost entirely hour, it being then past one in the away the vestiges of Winter's pall. morning, it received immediate attenThe change, however, was still worse, tion, for the door opened, and a voice for the streets were in various parts spoke in utter darkness, demanding almost covered with water, and a who was there. heavy northerly wind sent the rain "A friend to justice," responded dashing in the face of any foolhardy one of the two persons. person who ventured forth to meet the

« In what manner ?" inclemency of the weather.

“In seeking redress from Hope itOn this night, as if indifferent to self." the state of the atmosphere, were seen “ Enter, Signor Porro ; I recognise two persons issuing from the Palazzo

your voice well; there is no danger in Borroméo, closely enveloped in large admitting you, even without the usual mantles, and pursuing their course to. formula. wards a long line of small, intricate Ah! is that you, Borgazzi; I am streets, which leads in the direction of glad of it. Let us in immediately, for the Castle. What expedition they the weather is frightful, although all were on might be difficult to conjec- the better to conceal our meeting." ture, but that it was of no pleasant “Follow me, signor, but be careful import could be easily seen from the how you descend the stairs. A light way in which they carefully looked you are aware might betray our movearound them, as if fearful of being re- ments to eyes that are better blinded." cognised or followed, perhaps, by some The man who spoke was Girolamo of the many spies in the Austrian Borgazzi, a noble and warm-hearted police service. After pursuing their person, inspector of the Monza railpath through an interminable number road. He was afterwards mortally of narrow streets, they at length wounded by a bullet at the Milan outpaused, and carefully gazed around. break, and died, deservedly lamented Not a human being appeared in sight; by his friends. His last words were a and satisfied with their scrutiny, they prayer for his country's success.

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“ You need not fear, Borgazzi, I He who now led forward the new know the locality perhaps better than arrived was the Marquis Bevilacqua, yourself; and the Baron Pinaldi, my a young man of a high and illustrious companion, who you seem not to re- family of Brescia. He was killed the cognise, has also some acquaintance same day he joined his regiment, the with the mysteries of the place.” Royal Piedmont, at Sona, on the 27th

“I beg the Signor Barrone's par- April, 1848. don; but we had better descend to Proceeding down the passage, they the Concordia."

entered a large vault, where were as• Proceed, Borgazzi, we will follow sembled some twenty or thirty persons, you."

nearly all of them members of high Feeling their way down a long flight and illustrious families. The entrance of stairs, they reached a kind of empty of Porro was warmly greeted by the vault. Here they halted for a few persons present, as also that of his moments, whilst Borgazzi proceeded

friend Pinaldi. The scene was a cuto strike a light from a small tinder- rious one. Many were standing, while box and candle he carried in his pock- others had formed rude seats for themet. The instant he had succeeded in selves from heavy and uncouth pieces doing so, he approached a corner of of stone, lying around in different parts the vault and removed a small stone. of the vault. The air was damp, cold, A piece of iron presented itself to the and nauseous; and an attempt had been view, which, on being turned several made to dispel the noxious vapours times, a part of the wall opened, leav. by kindling a fire, which, in concert ing a sufficient space for Porro, the with some three or four torches, had, Baron, and Borgazzi to enter and de- to a great extent, filled the vault, large scend a small spiral staircase. In a though it was, with smoke. The perfew moments the three persons had sons assembled there had evidently descended in safety to a small and been discussing some subject of ima narrow passage, which on pursuing portance, which the entrance of Porro for about two hundred yards seemingly and the others had momentarily terminated. Searching for a few mo- stopped, for the Count Pompeo Litta ments, Borgazzi applied his mouth to a was addressing some observations to small hole in the wall, and whistled three the others. times in a peculiar manner. A noise Signori, I am glad my noble was then heard as if some individual friends the Signor Porro and the Baron was endeavouring to remove a heavy Pinaldi have joined our meeting to piece of masonry, and then a part of aid us with their counsel. The opinion the wall opened and disclosed to the I advanced but a short time ago, I still sight another narrow passage, termi- retain, even more strongly than I did dating in a large vault lighted with previously. We should not move or torches.

stir without some strong guarantee “Mio caro amico," exclaimed a that we shall be supported by a power, young man who had seemingly effected Italian if possible, in the struggle we for them an entrance, “what a plea are thinking of making: Look over sure to see you. I have been waiting

the difficulties of the task; pause well with impatience for this hour past, and consider them, and you will soon Porro, to greet your entrance into our become converts to my opinion. The new masonic assemblage of political inertness of the Italian people ; their brotherhood. Ah! Baron, is that you, long habits of ease; the want of arms and in good company, too, for a won- and of able leaders, all present a mass der ? Come in, come in, and let me of barriers most difficult to overcome. close up our den for fear the fox might On the other hand, a strong and powscent it.”

erful army, commanded by a marshal “ Bevilacqua, when will your mad who won his present position by wading tongue cease to rattle ? I thought through many a field of carnage, supmine was bad enough once, but yours plied with all the necessary materials is decidedly a combination of all the

these are among the many evils," uttered Porro in reply.

facts you have to contend with. It is, “ So much the better, for it will therefore, absolutely necessary to inprotect me from my enemies, without sure, in any degree, a successful result need of other defence.

from our arduous undertaking, that your friends are waiting for you." we should be well assured of some ex.

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of war,

But come,

ternal aid, otherwise our undertaking the occupation of the chair by. Mastai will become but a second Carbonari." Ferretti, the vanity which has induced

“Noble friends !” exclaimed the him to become the leader of a popular Baron Pinaldi, as the Count Pompeo reform, the excitement such a novel Litta ceased to speak,

o there is no spectacle has occasioned throughout one in this assemblage who has per- the entire continent, the constitutional haps thought more on the condition of grant accorded to Piedmont by her poor Italy than I have myself

. Al Ring, the sympathy shown to Italy by though I have spoken little on the the English government, the unanimity subject, yet from circumstances which of feeling reigning through our coun. have transpired in the bosom of my try — all present a mass of circum.' family, there have been feelings raised stances most favourable to our pur. impossible to crush, that have made pose. It is our duty to seize upon my thoughts turn constantly on the them, and turn these open manifestasubjection of my country to the iron tions of feeling to the advantage of voke of the rude stranger.

What our country and of our kind. My those circumstances were it is unneces- noble friend, the Count Pompeo Litta, sary for me to mention ; let it suffice has, with great discrimination, pointed for you to know, since they have oc- out to you the many dangers you have curred I bave marked with constant to meet before you can attain your care every sign, every breath of the glorious end, and has told you, before times, to see if no opportunity offered you venture further in the enterprise, it to free our native land from the hate- will be necessary to seek some foreign ful yoke which crushed the very beauty aid. I concur with him in his opiand impulse of life itself. The oppor- nion. The foreign aid you desire tunity long sought, and eagerly watched you will readily meet with in the for, has at length dawned upon Italy, ambassador or agent of the British The death of the late pontiff, and government, * who now is assisting by

*“As regards the conduct of Eugland in the recent affairs in Italy, we are not to believe that it is fully exposed in the official documents delivered to Parliament, nor that her proceedings have been confined to the interchange of diplomatic notes.”—Military Events in Italy. The author of this tale can readily prove the truth of this statement, for even money was advanced to a considerable extent on the part of an emissary of the English government, in the first origin of the revolution, to assist in its success. The withdrawat of English assistance, soon afterwards, and the breaking of every sacred promise, de serves to be exposed; for as yet no justification has been attempted for the cruel part enacted, in buoying up the hopes of the leaders of the revolution to expect material assista) ance, and then to abandon thein and their country to the brutal outrages of a triumphant foe. The deniat made in the House of Commons, by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, should only be taken for what it is worth, as a convenient mode of escaping censure at the time being, when the attention of the public mind was entirely engrossed with the affairs of the continent. Lord Palmerston asserted, on the 21st of July, 1849, “The political independence and liberties of Europe are bound up, in my opinion, with the maintenance and integrity of Austria as a great European power; and, therefore, anything which tends by direct or even remote contingency to weaken and to cripple Austria, but still more to reduce her from ber position of a first-rate power to that of a secondary state, must be a great calamity to Europe, and one which every Englishman ought to deprecate, and to try to presa vent." If such was the real opinion of Lord Palmerston in 1849, why, I should wish to ask his lordship, was not that opinion conceived sooner, before he permitted his agent to pledge himself that the assistance of the British government would be accorded to the Lombard revolution ? Why should that agent-and, no doubt, he had good authority-declare not merely privately, but even in presence of hundreds, that the sympathy of the British government and people was in favour of Italian independence? How was that independence to be accoma plished without the expulsion of the Austrian from Italy, is more than I can imagine, when it is principally by the armies of the House of Hapsburg that the slavery of my native land continues. The public should bear in mind the declaration made by Lord Palmerston on the same day“ It should be known and well understood to every people on the face of the earth that we are not disposed to submit to wrong, and that the maintenance of peace on our part is subject to the indispensable condition that all countries shall respect our honour and our dignity." Where is the honour of the British people, when it allows the most sacred treaties to be broken, to which itself was a party, without' uttering a single protest ? --where its dignity, when before its eyes are enacted butcheries and infamies, disgraceful to humanity and civilisation did bg'urali kad se )

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