thing still remains to be done, we must help to accomplish the state of things we have thought fit to recognize. But if the real cause of this impatience to depart from an attitude of neutrality is a desire to emancipate our trade from the inconvenience it suffers by the civil war in America, it is plain that mere recognition of the South will be wholly inoperative for that purpose. If what we want is cotton, then the remedy is not the recognition of the South, which would do nothing, but a breach of the blockade, which would open the ports. Yet this, which is the only efficient measure for the purpose, is one which neither Mr. Gladstone nor the other English advocates of the South have yet ventured to propound.

tion of the United States because they think consequences of which we must always be that the weakness of America is the strength in a state of preparation to defend ourselves. of England. Mr. Gladstone, indeed, dis- And what possible good should we gain in claims this view. Indeed, it would be exchange by such an act of gratuitous of strange if the Chancellor of the Exchequer, fence? To recognize the independence of who may be regarded as the official head of the South, without taking any ulterior step, English commerce, should view with special is to do nothing at all, except, indeed, to complacency the ruin of our best customer. exasperate the North. Either the South is The statesmen of the last century, it is true, independent already, or it is not. If it is so did not hesitate to preach and practise the already, our recognition of its independence doctrine that to foster the disasters of your will not alter the case. If it is not indepenneighbor was the height of political wisdom. dent, our saying it is will leave it just where It was on this principle that the ministers it was. A mere formal recognition is either of Louis XV. were in such a hurry to recog- superfluous or insufficient. If the fact is nize the rebellious colonies of North Amer-accomplished, it is unnecessary; if someica. And we are by no means sure that English public opinion has yet cleared itself from the delusion engendered by this moral and political fallacy. But assume that the disruption of the Union were as highly desirable for this country as some people are inclined to believe, why is it necessary or advisable that we should interfere or contribute to its consummation? According to Mr. Gladstone and those who think with him, that end is already finally and irrevocably accomplished. The Union, according to them, is finally dissevered. If this is what we want, why not leave alone a work which is ready done to our hands? Why officiously meddle in a catastrophe of which we may reap the advantage—if it be an advantage-without the invidiousness of having in any way contributed to it? The reasoning of those who are in favor of recognizing the South is essentially vicious in its construction. The very reasons which they allege in favor of making the recognition show it to be superfluous and unnecessary. But such a step, if it be unnecessary, is certainly by no means innocuous. The simple recognition of the independence of the South would be a mere act of defiance and irritation to the Government of Washington, without producing any one beneficial result. In their present embarrassed and crippled condition, we do not, it is true, contemplate that the North would make war But it would certainly breed a feeling towards this country of the most bitter and not altogether unmerited hostility, which might display itself in a thousand ways which it is impossible precisely to anticipate. We should, at all events, have flung down to them a menace, from the

upon us.

But then, apart from recognition, there is another project which has found favor in some quarters, viz., the offer on the part of the European powers of a mediation between the belligerents. To us, we confess, this scheme, though less directly offensive to the North, practically implies pretty much the same thing, and is not likely to be more acceptable or successful. Indeed, in some ways, of all plans this is probably the worst. If the offer of mediation were rejected, as it would most probably be, the mere circumstance of its offer would have proved a useless and impertinent interference. To enforce a mediation by arms is a thing so monstrous that we believe no one has yet been found absurd enough to propound such an idea. But assume, even, the improbable contingency that the offer of mediation were accepted, the impracticable nature of the intervention would then become conspicu ous. The mediators would then become the moral promoters of the project they recom

No doubt the desire of every wise and every humane man must be that this terrible strife should be brought at the earliest moment to a close. But it is one of those cases wherein "the patient must minister unto himself." We cannot enforce peace by arms. The conditions on which alone peace is possible, involving, as they must, a formal acknowledgment of the system of slavery, are such as we cannot sanction. Happily it is not necessary that we should take any part in a question in which we cannot appear to sustain the policy of either side. If ever there was a political question in which the course of the English Government lay clear and straight before it, it is this. We cannot believe that a body of practical men and experienced statesmen, such as compose the English Cabinet, can be guilty of so serious an error as wantonly to interfere in a matter where the evils of

mended to the acceptance of the rival parties. Is the English Government, then, to undertake the task of settling the principles and limits of secession, and to regulate the new code of slavery? Does not the very statement of the proposition demonstrate how impossible it is that an English Government should be able to take any part in the discussion? What proposals are there which we could either propound or support, that could have a chance of acceptance by the South, and which would not at the same time profoundly shock, the moral sense of the English people? Are we to propose to the North, and to sustain by the weight of our influence, some scheme by which such and such States are to be consigned to the assured dominion of slavery? Are we to give the seal of European sanction to a new constitution whose leading object is to establish forever the permanence of the "peculiar institution"? Is an English Govern- intervention are obvious and certain, and ment to take a leading part in a negotiation the fundamental basis of which must necessarily be the recognition of slavery, and whose leading articles must be the regulation of its limits, and the securities for its preservation ?

where it is open to them to persevere in the safe and judicious policy of neutrality, which they have hitherto pursued with universal approbation and to the general advantage.

1,000 cubic feet of gas took 35.53 lbs. of paraf fin, 41-16 of spermaceti, and 47.18 of adaman tine candles. The relative cost of the lights were: gas, 8s. 9d.; petroleum, 4s. 5d.; sperma ceti candles, £4 3s. 4d.; paraffin candles, £2 8s. 8d.; adamantine candles, £2 11s. 5d. Judging from these experiments, therefore, petroleum is the cheapest known source of artificial light.London Review.

ILLUMINATING POWER OF PETROLEUM.-It | while with an arched flame 2.846 were required. has been very rightly remarked, that the differ-Losses of from 4 to 20 per cent. were observed ence of price per gallon is not always difference with different trimmed wicks. Other experiof cheapness between two burning fluids for il-ments showed that to produce a light equal to luminating purposes. A mixture of alcohol and turpentine may be bought for half a crown, and yet it is more expensive when the quantity of light given is taken into account, than sperm oil costing three shillings and seven pence. The low price of refined petroleum having of late caused its extensive use, the experiments of Professor Booth and Mr. Garrett of Philadelphia as to its illuminating powers are very interesting. They were mainly made to test the relative illuminating power of mineral oil in respect to that of common coal-gas. Four kinds of oil By the death of Marshal Castellane the numwere tried, but there was very little difference ber of the marshals of France is reduced to ten, between them. It was found that 2:599 gallons as follows: D'Ornano, Vaillant, Magnan, Pelof mineral oil gave a light equal to 1,000 cubiclisier, St. Jean d'Angely, Baraguay, D'Hilliers, feet of gas, while it required no less than 11 699 Randon, Niel, Magenta (McMahon), and Cangallons of burning fluid (alcohol and turpentine) robert. to produce an equal amount of light. Various experiments were also made to determine what form of flame gave the most intense light with the least quantity of oil, and it was found that a clean straight-cut wick gave the best results. With a clean straight-cut wick, 2.576 gallons of oil gave a light equal to 1,000 cubic feet of gas,

The Italian army now numbers 323,580 men. The Piedmontese constitute one-third of the force, owing to the fact that the conscription has not yet produced its full effect in the southern provinces.

and under that assumption receives a full account of all family and other secrets in strict confidence, and in strict confidence she imparts it to the other favorites at the other this type are very much addicted to a style houses in the neighborhood. Old ladies of of conversation with the favorite which they call "hearing what So-and-So has got to say," but which really consists in their pouring out their own hearts to So-and-So with

has been subjected to the mysterious proc- cially favored; for diffusive charity is foreign esses of the anile mind. Even in the admin- to the female breast, in the matter of domes istration of medicine, a woman's intellect tics as well as drugs. If the favorite be a appears to be incapable of vigorous impar- serious. Being perfect as all ladies' favor woman servant, the consequences are very tiality. As she contemplates her medicine-ites are as a matter of course, she is assumed chest, she has her favorites and her antipa- to possess the virtue of perfect discretion; thies, and will no more believe harm of the one and good of the other than if they lived and moved in virile form. She looks on all drugs as rival suitors for her favor; and she selects one, and clings to him, for better for worse, with true womanly loyalty. The cause of her preference is often obscure. She may have fallen in love with calomel at first sight, or antimony may have become endeared to her by a long series of well-remembered cures.out reserve. By a confusion of the Ego and But whatever its claim to her fidelity, no subsequent maltreatment or misbehavior on its part can alienate her affections from the drug of her choice. And she is not satisfied with her own adoration of it. She likes it to be appreciated. She insists that every one within the range of her influence shall acknowledge its merits too. In past times this evil was less than it is now. The lady of the house always had her pet remedy, which she delighted to administer to sons and daughters, men-servants and maid-servants, and hardest case of all-to the strangers within her gates. But then it was some traditional prescription of simple herbs, from which the most important ingredient had probably fallen out by accident. But the general use of powerful medicines has changed the state of the case. Wielding her blue-pill, or her morphia, the old lady-doctor has become a fearful engine of destruction. And she can only be disarmed by raising her mind from the medicine-chest to the doctor, and inspiring her with an attachment to the compounder of blue-pill to which her fondness even for blue-pills itself shall give way. Whenever a lady, advanced in years, is detected in clandestine visits to her medicine-chest, her family should lose no time in getting a fascinating doctor into the neighborhood. It is their only chance of life.

the Non-Ego for which a German philosopher might possibly account, the impression which half an hour's uninterrupted stream of their own garrulity leaves upon their memories is, that they have been quite silent, and have been receiving a great deal of valuable information. When the favorite is a man servant, the case is less serious for the family, but worse for the object of her attachment. It does not show itself by any of the ordinary signs. She does not seek his conversation, or appreciate his society-rather the reverse. It takes the form of an insane fear of overworking him. The sight of any one pulling the bell affects her, as if her own tooth was fastened to the wire. She contrives excuses for not going in the carriage, lest he should have to go out. She renounces society, and forces her unsympa thizing family to renounce it too, lest he should be out late at night. She throws the males of her family into a state bordering on insanity by substituting heavy teas for dinners, that he may not have to wait. But the mark by which she may be known is the her home on Sundays-a combination of the air of unspeakable discomfort which pervades Turkish Ramadan with the Roman Catholic Good Friday-which is the result of her ingenious contrivances to enable him to have his Sunday to himself. And all the while she is doing her best to ruin him, body and soul. An embodied angel could not withof an ordinary London footman. In the instand the continued overfeeding and idleness terest of humanity itself, therefore, this form Both these types of the loves of old ladies of old-ladyish affection ought to be discourhave their advantages, and, for the sake of aged. But when it once sets in, it is the avoiding worse, should be rather encour- most inveterate of all. Domestic scandals aged than checked. But there is one that are pretty sure to come in plenty; but they has no redeeming point. Sometimes an old are wholly inadequate to root it out. victim will go on petting her footman, and lady takes it into her head to conceive a pas- dismissing him for drunkenness, and ther sionate attachment for her servants. Gen- petting his successor and so on, in continerally, it is one particular pet, who is spe-uous series, to the end.

The

From The Spectator.

EUGENIE DE GUERIN.*

beautiful, and deep as Eugénie de Guérin's. We speak with the more certainty of what she was, because the journals here printed were nearly all written for no eye but that of her younger brother, the short-lived poet, Maurice de Guérin, and without even a dream of publication. Hence we have an opportu

eral be tedious of seeing the clear waters of the mind day by day; and it is not too much to say that, circumscribed as is the area of her thought, there is always on it some gleam of light or some depth of shadow that is cast from a world above our own.

WE are apt too often to regard the brilliancy and grace of French thought, more especially, perhaps, of feminine French thought, as a kind of superficial lustre that is kindled and fed at the cost of a deeper and simpler life—of inward harmony and domes-nity that is almost as rare as it would in gentic peace. If any one wishes to convince himself that this is essentially a prejudice, that the true genius of French thought, sentiment, and playfulness, may be seen in its most perfect beauty and tenderness, without a trace of that peculiar glitter, which seems to come from an artificial reflector introduced Eugénie de Guérin was the eldest child of close to the surface of the mind for the very an impoverished but well-descended family purpose of arresting the beams of thought of Languedoc, born about the year 1805. In before they penetrate too deeply, and sending the deep seclusion of the old chateau of Cayly them swiftly back into the social circle with she, her sister, and two brothers were brought all the variety of color and direction of which up by her father, after the death of her they are susceptible,—should read these jour-mother, which happened when she was yet only nals and letters of Mdlle. Eugénie de Guérin. thirteen years old; and Eugénie was, thereNever speculative, yet never shallow, singu- fore, early compelled to take in part the place larly limited in range, but singularly unlim- of a mother to her sister and brothers. The ited in the depth and height of her intel- youngest of the children, Maurice, who was lectual insight, full of that rarest tender- five years younger than herself, became natness which, when unsatisfied, brings from so urally her especial charge, the more so, that thoughtful and harmonious a nature the most his reserved, sensitive, and poetical nature exquisite tones of melancholy music, when was rich enough to give her a high intellectpartially satisfied, the melodious playfulness ual stimulus in return for the aid of her of the heart itself,-Eugénie de Guérin may clearer and stronger, though not less gentle well be taken as the highest ideal of the spirit. In after life, the thoughts of the feminine nature which the Catholic faith, young poet returned constantly to the home implicitly accepted, is capable of forming which Eugénie had made, and still made, so out of the purest and noblest material of the dear to him, and he dwelt in many graceful old French noblesse. It has rarely happened lines on the flight of birds, the falling auto us to read either a more melancholy or a tumn leaves, and rich autumn sunsets they more profoundly delightful book-more mel- had loved to watch together from that terancholy, because, while her nature seems race of the old castle where flowering shrubs made for sunshine, it is only at the rarest had replaced the battlements, or from their intervals that she lives in the warmth of a favorite seat on a neighboring hill. Maurice satisfied heart, -more delightful, because had one of those susceptible and relaxed nathere are few pages in it which do not seem tures which seem made rather to feel than to to bring us closer to the fountains of all act. The only celebrated work of his short beauty and tenderness, which do not reveal life was a kind of prose poem called the through the simplest and most familiar de- " Centaur," in which he endeavors to portray tails of human life the faith which gives them the old Greek conception of that borderland their sweetness and their soul. We are no between the world of animal life and of godadmirers of the Roman Catholic faith, but it like power, which is embodied in the figures may well be proud if it can subdue, satisfy, of creatures like Pan and the Centaurs, at and sustain many human lives as simple, once more and less than human,-endowed * Eugénie de Guérin. Journal et Lettres pub-with a richer and grander organization, and liés avec l'assentiment de sa famille. Par G. S. yet exempt from the chilling shadows of reason and conscience. This was just the kind of world for subtle insight into which the

Trebution. Paris: Didier. 1862.

See The Living Age, No. 879, for an article on this subject, from the National Review.