lers, giving notice of the same to the authorities at | agent. Very early every Monday and Friday home. Their reports were addressed to M. de Car-morning, just before the arrival of the English mail, bière, then Minister of the Interior, and were pre- which always happened in the course of the Sunday served in the French Home Office, together with or the Thursday night, the employee of the embassy other official papers.

himself delivered to the individual in the service of The violation of the secrecy of letters, so common the agent of police, the correspondence received by a practice with the police of the Empire, was equally that night's mail. He (the individual) took it to familiar to the police of the Restoration, who scarce- his principal, who purposely resided (close to the ly made a mystery of their proceedings.

English embassy) in the Rue de Surène, No. 8, on A general, appointed soon after the first Restora- the second floor, over the entresol. tion to command one of the fortresses in the Départe- ! The letters were then opened. Copies were tament du Nord, took possession of his post; but as ken of what seemed important, and then, after restorhe had still some business unsettled in Paris, he left ing them to their original state, they were sent to an officer there charged with the task of superin- the embassy under cover, or simply put into the tending it. They kept up an active correspondence post, as it might be. In the evening, the same together, but quite unconnected with public affairs. manæuvres were repeated with the packets and

It would seemn that an order must have been giv letters that were to leave by the mail. . en to stop and open all letters coming from the At the outset the trick was clumsily played; they frontier; for every one which the officer received neglected to take sufficient precautions. In consehad been subjected to that inspection, and the in- quence therefore of suspicions expressed by their spectors had not given themselves the trouble even victims, they proceeded with greater circumspecto seal up the letters again. He received two in tion and improved their mode of manipulation. this state without making any complaint; but at the They removed traces of handling with an ironingthird he betook himself to the post-office. He asked box. They had used, for imitating seals, a paste for the head of the receiving department, and quiet- so soft that the re-impression lost all its sharpness. ly remarked that he had no objection to their read- This difficulty was overcome by a young man ing his letters whenever they thought it desirable named Lenoir, who was specially employed to open to do so : but he begged them to have the goodness and reseal letters. He discovered the secret of a to close them again, to prevent the porter of his metallic composition which, after receiving the inhouse from becoming acquainted with their con- | pression of a seal, became extremely hard. By tents. The official stammered out a few unmean- means of this, they soon possessed perfect fac-similes ing phrases, without attempting either to deny the of the scals, not only of the ambassadors' correspondfact or to excuse it. He simply promised that the ents, but of the ambassadors themselves. oversight should not occur again; and in fact, from It is remarkable that, notwithstanding this signal that time, they did reseal the letters opened. service, Lenoir was subsequently dismissed without

The first public avowal of the practice was made their taking the precaution to purchase his silence, at the trial of Madame de Lavalette and of Mes whether they thought he would be discreet for his sieurs Wilson, Bruce, and Hutchinson, for the es- own sake, or whether they defied public opinion to cape of M. de Lavalette, when the odious custom such an extent as to be indifferent about the discloswas treated as almost legal. The charges against ures he might make. He himself, glad to escape the English officers rested entirely on tbe contents from so questionable a career, established himself in of a letter intercepted and opened at the post. The an honorable profession at a distance from the capital. defendants protested with just indignation against The inspection of the correspondence sent away the violation of their correspondence; but such was from Paris necessarily made it late for the post. the force of party spirit that not one single magis- To silence complaints, and to denote what it was, trate raised his voice to disavow the base act of this tardy packet was always addressed, in English, which the police took care to proclaim them accom- to NI. Joseph Planla, one of the Under Secretaries plices. They did not refuse to entertain an accusa- of Stale, Foreign Office, London. This precaution tion based on a maneuvre which deserved their was taken because the post-office was often full of severity even more than the charge supported by it. people as the time for closing the bags approached.

During several years there existed at the Pré- If any one asked where the packet came from — a fecture of Police a service organized to obtain question which was sometimes put with complaints cognizance of the correspondence of the English at the lateness of its arrival -- the answer serving ambassador with the British Government. The as a password was, “ It is sent on the part of M. plan and execution of this work of darkness is due Robert.” to one Sieur Boudras, who had the title of Inspec- Whenever extraordinary couriers arrived, attor-General of Police. Having at his disposal very tempts were made to turn them to account; but in large sums of money, he contrived to corrupt in consequence of the changes after M. Anglès's reseveral of the foreign legations the individuals wlio tirement little use coull be made of that opportuhad to receive and deliver the ambassador's cor-nity, although they were well aware what treasures respondence with their respective Courts. The of information might be thence obtained. Under English affair was managed thus:

the preceding adıninistration, however, they someThe packets and letters which arrived at or were times employed four translators and as many manipsent off from the English embassy, were handed by ulators to get at the contents of the despatches the factotum of the legation to a police agent. He addressed to the English ministry, Lord Castlereagh (the factotum) for several years had indulged in especially. Whole nights were spent in this credito playing this lucrative game, which brought him in able labor, the translators were kept in constant three or four hundred francs (£12 or £16) per employment, and were rewarded with liberal salamonth, according to circumstances. On the four- ries. M. Pasquier, then Préfet de Police, allowed teenth of October, 1822, he received for his half M. Foudras five or six hundred francs a month for month one hundred and fifty francs, which were the payment of his interpreters. brought to him by the subordinate of the principal | The French police first took form under lieutenants-general, respecting whom we have room for tien, also an ex-marchand de vins' but then a master only one short anecdote. This occurred before the carpenter. An investigation took place, but as it First Revolution, when manners were different to led to nothing they were discharged at the end of what they are now.

several months. Signs were then not confined to inns, almost Three years afterwards, in 1824, the authorities every shop displaying its own. A milliner chose believing they had surer evidence, Robert and Batfor hers (quite artistically painted) an ecclesiastic tien were again taken into custody, closely interro! in full canonicals selecting women's caps and mak- gated, and again set at liberty. ing love to the girls in the shop. Under this sign Nearly ten years elapsed after this second legal was written " À l'Abbé coquet," " the coquettish proceeding. A few months more and the decerabbé.” The lieutenant-general, Hérault, a big- nial prescription would cover the case with its prooted and narrow-minded person, thought the picture tective mantle and allow the crime to go unpashighly improper, scandalous, libellous, all that was ished. Public curiosity had cooled down long ago bad. As soon as he got home he ordered one of The widow Houet's disappearance was forgotten by his officers to fetch the " Abbé coquet" and bring many and never known by most people, when n him there forthwith. The officer, accustomed to the month of March, 1833, one — who had orders of this sort, went to the lodgings of an abbé suffered former convictions, but who then was a sort named Coquet, compelled him to get out of bed and of man of business and Bastien's dear friend and accompany him to the lieutenant-general's hotel. I counsellor, made advances to another liberated

"Monseigneur,” he announced to his chief, " the jail-bird (formerly an agent in Vidocq's brigade, Abbé Coquet is here."

and retained in the Service de Sûreté as - indica“ Very well; put him into the attic.”

tor,") and told him in confidence that, if the police So said so done. The wretched abbé, dying of would give him five hundred francs, he would tell hunger and cold, protested loudly

them who had murdered the widow Houet, and " Monseigneur,” the policeman asked next day, would enable them to find the body of the victim. “ what are we to do with this Abbé Coquet, whom The proposition, communicated to the chief of the you told us to shut up in the attic ? He is in our Service de Sûreté, was at once accepted. Cway, and gives a deal of trouble.”

| began by stating that Robert had been the instiga* Burn him, if you like," was the off-hand reply.. gor of the crime; that Bastien had been induced to

An explanation ensued and the mistake was rec-commit it only by repeated promises of money, tified. The abbé was obliged to content himself wbich promises had not been fulfilled ; for the Civil with an apology and an invitation to dinner. Tribunal having only allowed the widow Houet's

All records of criminal police, English or foreign, daughter (Robert's wife) an annual income of filtend to confirm our homely proverb that "murder teen hundred francs (£60) until the expiration of will out.” If the unknown perpetrator of a crime the time fixed by the law for succeeding to the enis often discovered by the ingenuity and sagacity of tire property of persons who have disappeared, clever police agents, there are also instances in Robert, in consequence of this straitened allowance, which apparent chance or some quite unlooked for the smallness of which he had not foreseen, at firs revelation gives the clew to a mystery on which eluded his promises and then seemed to forget them, the police had been unable to throw a ray of light. ignoring the fact that the hand held out in demand Such was the case with a crime now famous in ju- of payment was still stained with the blood of their dicial annals — the murder in the Rue Vaugirard.

The widow Houet, seventy years of age, and “Bastien lately told me," added C--, *that possessed of a fortune of a hundred and fifty thou- this time he expected Robert would pay him the sand francs (£ 6,000), lived, in 1821, at No. 21, Rue money that had been promised so long; that he had St. Jacques. She had two children, a son and a written to him at Villeneuve-le-Roi (where he and daughter. The daughter was married to an ex- his wife were leading a very retired life); and that wineshop-keeper, named Robert, who was not al- bis letter, besides other threats, contained these ways on friendly terms with his mother-in-law. words : Remember the garden belonging to No. 81, The son, a tall and strong young man, but of weak Rue de Vaugirard ... you know at fifteen feet and narrow intellect, resided with his mother, work- from the back wall and fourteen feet from the si ing in a shop for two francs a day as homme de wall .... the dead perhaps might reappear." peine, or bearer of burdens, — poor pay for the son The horrible drama was accomplished thus. In of so rich a mother.

the beginning of September, 1821, Robert, after But although the old lady was thus comparatively making sure of Bastien's complicity, hired in the wealthy in respect to her habits and her condition Rue Vaugirard an isolated house with a garden, in in life, she had no other servant than a journey- which he installed Bastien. That individual duga woman who came every morning to arrange her deep hole, bought a rope and a quantity of quickapartment and go on her errands. On the 13th of lime. After which, one Sunday morning, he called September, 1821, this charwoman having arrived on the widow Houet and told her that her daughter later than usual, the widow Houet scolded her and her son-in-law were expecting her in their new severely and then sent her to fetch things from a house to déjeuner. The old lady, knowing Bastien considerable distance. After her departure some to be intimate with her children, and consequently person, who remained unknown, came to see the suspecting nothing wrong, did not hesitate to get old lady, and they left the house in company. into a hackney coach and drive with him to the Where did that person take her to ? They could Rue de Vaugirard. not find out, for she never came back.

Now several houses in that street bore the No. In consequence of the ill-will subsisting between 81. They got out of the coach to see which va the widow and the son-in-law, public opinion ac- theirs. Bastien sent the coachman away to prerest cused the latter. At her death he would inherit him from noticing where they entered. On resch half her fortune. Robert was arrested in conse- ing the garden Bastien twisted the rope round the quence, together with one of his friends named Bas-old woman's neck and in half a minute she me

strangled. He then pushed the body into the hole, I could only, if we believe them, have been destined covered it with a thick layer of quicklime, carefully to protect for an indefinite time the mortal remains levelling the earth over all. That done, he went of the king who ordered its construction. This inand enjoyed the dejeuner, which had been prepared terpretation is justified by numerous analogies. as a bait for the widow Houet in case of need. There is, as in the most authentic tombs, the same

All these facts were proved in evidence. The care used in concealing the sarcophagus in an imbody was found precisely at the spot marked on a penetrable retreat, in barring the issues to the sepulplan found in Bastien's portfolio. The tender-chral chamber, in concealing by ingenious precauhearted jury, nevertheless, gave Robert and Bastien tions the retreat where death was to wait for the the benefit of attenuating circumstances! They future resurrection. If there had existed no indicawere therefore only sentenced to travaux forcés à tions of another destination, it would have been perpétuité, bard labor for life, of which they had lawful.to affirm that was the only design of so gialready cheated justice out of ten years by remain-gantic a work; but how accord this hypothesis with ing at large.

the more precise indications which explorers, rule and quadrant in hand, have ended by discovering?

Let us examine first the principal data of this THE ASTRONOMERS. BEFORE THE

singular archæological problem. The base is a perGREAT PYRAMID.

fect square, or at least differs so little from one that [Translated for EvERY SATURDAY from the Revue des Deux it may be doubted whether the deviation between Mondes.]

the theoretical and observed form is to be attributed From all time people have distrusted the interfer to the negligence of the constructors or to the unence of the exact sciences in the domain of histori- certainty of the process of measurement. The four cal criticism ; it must be confessed that they had sides are turned very exactly towards the four carsome reason for doing so, for mathematical certain-dinal points, and the faces all present the same inty rests on bases and borrows processes of reasoning clination. The successive layers, unequal between which are too narrow for the most likely and least themselves, each preserve an uniform thickness on contested events of the past. However, it is permit- the circumference of the pyramid. The gallery ted to indulge in scientific speculations which en- which is the only entrance to the monument and deavor to explain the indecisive testimonies of an- which prolongs itself in à right line to the subtertiquity. It is on this title that we may judge worthy ranean chamber is just as much inclined below the of attention the investigations of a Scotch astrono horizon as is above it the ascending gallery which mer, M. Piazzi Smith, on the origin and design of ends in the upper chambers. So far one could see •the pyramids, those curious monuments which have in these different coincidences only proofs of the exremained the most inexplicable of the hieroglyphics treme care which the architect of the Pharaoh Cheof Egyptian archæology.

phren employed in his work. Here is what reveals Among the numerous pyramids which still stand better a secret intention. The descending gallery in the valley of the Nile, the most higli and perfect is turned almost towards the pole of the earth, and in construction is that which people usually desig. must have been, four or five thousand years ago, at nate by the name of the Great Pyramid of Djizeh, the time of its construction, like the gigantic tube of and which is distinguished from the others by spe- a telescope directed on some shining star which cial characteristics. It is, it seems, the most an- played then the role of polar star. The pretended cient; the Pharaoh Chafra or Chephren, who had it sarcophagus in granite which the upper chamber built, belonged to the second dynasty and lived, it conceals, has been cut in such a manner that the cais affirmed, forty or sixty centuries ago. The ma-pacity of the inside is half the exterior volume. A sonry has been cut with so much art and care that final circumstance would be especially remarkable, it is with difficulty one can distinguish, even now, in if the state of dilapidation of the exterior of the the interior of the narrow passages which intersect edifice permitted the proof of its exact truth. The it, the seams of the immense blocks of which it is mathematical relation between the height of the composed. The granite and limestone are super-pyramid and the side of the base is equal to the reposed in an apparently studied order; may not this lation between the diameter and half the circunassociation of different materials have an enigmatic ference of a circle, so that, if this fact was admitted sense which escapes us? In short, this great pyra- as certain, we should have to admit also that the mid is pierced with inclined or horizontal galleries, Egyptians knew at a very ancient epoch one of the chambers, obscure cavities in which certain combi- important parameters of geometry. nations appear to have been sought after with par- These metrical results have appeared the more ticular care. Certainly it is not a shapeless mass, as worthy of attention that no traces of them are found one long believed it to be. Exact measurements in the other pyramids. Little or large, they are have discovered exact proportions, relations of sim-not, as one would be tempted to believe, a faithful ple and uniform grandeur ; on the whole these rough reproduction of the great one. One observes in stones, in spite of the heaviness and bulk of their them neither the same process of construction, nor first appearance, have a mysterious sense, real or so many internal cavities, nor the same relations ! emblematical, of which it is irritating not to discov-dimension. One would rather suspect that they er the key. It is beside the most colossal and solid were the work of more modern architects, who no edifice which men have ever raised, so much so that longer knew how to interpret the enigmatic symbols innumerable periods of years have passed over it which the old monument left before their eyes. without sensibly changing its form and structure. This opinion seems the more probable that the

Archæologists, confining themselves to the consid- image of the pyramid drawn in the hieroglyphics of eration of it from the point of view which is habitu- a relatively recent epoch is only an undetermined al to them, have compared it with the other vestiges triangle without any resemblance to the form of the of Egyptian antiquity, and have concluded from it, primitive periods. not without plausible motives, that it was a tomb Must we believe with M. Piazzi Smith that the more ostentatious than the others. Such a mass pyramid had in the beginning of Egyptian civilization a hidden meaning, the memory of which was labors of Colonel Howard Vyse, who applied him afterwards lost, or that the priests, the faithful guar- self, thirty years ago, to the minute exploration of dians of the religious mysteries, never revealed to this stone colossus to its most secret recesses, tbere their contemporaries? What could, then, this remained still much to be done. The subject is hot meaning be? It is a question asked numbers of exhausted, since these efforts have not ended in a times, and to which no satisfactory answer has yet solution of which the truth is evident. Perhaps the been given. The common fault of the different in- mystery will remain forever impenetrable, a maniterpretations proposed so far, is that they only take fest sign that the primitive peoples had ideas, alcount of certain characteristics of the edifice, and quaintances, prejudices, or sentiments which the neglect others which are not less essential. It is modern mind, bewildered by the immense increze the same reproach which has been brought against of civilization, is no longer apt to conceive. After those who found in it only a royal tomb. As much braving revolutions and conquests, the ravages of might be said of the explanation proposed by Sir time and atmosphere, and the more redoubtable atJohn Herschel, who saw in it only an observatory tacks of the human races wbich have struggled at fit to show, at the distant epoch when it was con- its feet during thousands of years, the Great Pyrastructed, the true direction of the polar star. An mid is still standing, an unique work in the world of Egyptian astronomer, Mahmoud Bey, enunciated, grandeur and originality. not long ago, a new theory, founded, like the preceding, on the coincidence with a celestial phenomenon. According to him, it must have been a monu

LADY MACBETH. ment consecrated to a star of the constellation of the

BY FANNY KEMBLE. Dog, Sirius, which represented the god of the dead In a momentary absence of memory, a friend of in the ancient Egyptian mythology. The pyramid mine once suggested to me the idea that Lady M3was inclined in such a way that the beneficent rays beth's exclamation in the sleeping scene, -- "The of Sirius fell perpendicularly on the southern face Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?" – of the pyramid. None of these suppositions renders was a conscience-stricken reference to herself, and a satisfactory account of the minute details of the her own lost condition. Of course, the hypothesis interior structure. The intention of the architect was immediately abandoned on the recollection that was, without any doubt, less elementary and more Macbeth never had been Thane of Fife, and that it complex ; that is at least what the geometrical par- is Macduff's slaughtered mate Lady Macbeth is ticularities of this gigantic work seem to reveal. dreaming of, — the poor dame who, with all her

It is assuredly more legitimate to think that the pretty chickens, was destroyed at one fell swoop by Egyptian priests wished to figure by it under a sen- Macbeth's murderous cruelty. sible and nevertheless hidden form teachings rela- The conversation that ensued led me to reflect on tive to the religion, the manners or the sciences of this mistaken suggestion of my friend, as involving their time. M. Piazzi Smith pretends, with many a much deeper mistake, - an important psycholog other archæologists, that the traditions which are cal error. Not only the fact was not as suggested, buried in it have relation to the weights and meas- but a fact of that nature, – viz. an accusing retura ures then in use. The hypothesis is not new, but upon herself by Lady Macbeth, - could not be it rests on more certain data than those which have Lady Macbeth, even in her sleep, has no qualms of preceded it in this field of research. Thus the conscience; her remorse takes none of the tenderer length of the base would represent a certain multiple forms akin to repentance, nor the weaker ones allied of the unity of length, and this unity would be noth-to fear, from the pursuit of wbich the tortured soul, ing else than the ten millionth part of the terrestrial seeking where to hide itself, not seldom escapes indiameter. The pretended sarcophagus would be a to the boundless wilderness of madness. unity of weight in relation with the density of the earth. A very able article, published some years ago in Even the decimal numeration would be expressed in the National Review, on the character of Lady Macsymbolical characters on several of the walls of the beth, insists much upon an opinion that she died of edifice. In a word, the Egyptians of four or five remorse, as some palliation of her crimes, and initigathousand years ago would have possessed a com- tion of our detestation of them. That she died of plete metrological system more perfect, we are told, wickedness would be, I think, a juster verdict. Rethan the metrical system of which we are so proud, morse is consciousness of guilt, — often, indeed, no and have engraved the indelible memory of it on more akin to saving contrition than the faith of derthis mass of stones. We should then have to sup- ils, who tremble and believe, is to saving faith. pose that they possessed an extensive knowledge of but still consciousness of guilt: and that I think astronomy and physics. As to know whence so Lady Macbeth never had; though the unrecognizer much science came to men whom Herodotus repre-pressure of her great guilt killed her. I think her sents as very ignorant, M. Piazzi Smith contents life was destroyed by sin, as by a disease of which himself with saying that they had received the no she was unconscious, and that she died of a broken tions x it by divine inspiration. It would be diffi heart, while the impenetrable resolution of ber will

T.16 for us to follow him so far. It is an irrational remained unbowed. The spirit was willing, but and inconsequential step to explain a mystery by a the flesh was weak; the body can sin but so much, miracle.

and survive; and other deadly passions besides those If M. Piazzi Smith lets himself be carried too far of violence and sensuality can wear away its fine in the way of deductions under the empire of an ex- tissues, and undermine its wonderful fabric. The clusive idea, there remains to him at least the merit woman's mortal frame succumbed to the tremendous of having advanced the study of the Great Pyramid weight of sin and suffering which her immortal soul by consecrating his leisure and his practical skill as had power to sustain; and, having destroyed its teman astronomer to the obtaining exact measures of poral house of earthly sojourn, that soul, unexhausted this indecipherable monument. After the conscien- by its wickedness, went forth into its new abode of tious and sagacious researches of the French savans eternity. of the expedition of Egypt, after the persevering The nature of Lady Macbeth, even when proe

trated in sleep before the Supreme Avenger whom ness to God, and this to be the cause of vitality in she keeps at bay during her conscious hours by the the soul, suggested the idea of a gradual, voluntary exercise of her indomitable will and resolute power departure from God, which should cause the gradof purpose, is incapable of any salutary spasm of ual darkening and final utter extinction of the moral anguish, or hopeful paroxysm of mental hor-spirit. I confess that this theory of spiritual selfror. The irreparable is still to her the un-deplora- extinction through sin seemed to me a thousand ble, – “What's done cannot be undone”: - and times more appalling than the most terrific vision of her slumbering eyes see no more ghosts than her everlasting torment. watchful waking ones believe in : “I tell you yet Taking the view I do of Lady Macbeth's characagain, Banquo is buried; he cannot come out of his ter, I cannot accept the idea (held, I believe, by grave.” Never, even in her dreams, does any gra- her great representative, Mrs. Siddons) that in the cious sorrow smite from her stony heart the blessed banquet scene the ghost of Banquo, which appears brine of tears that wash away sin; never, even in to Macbeth, is seen at the same time by his wife, her dreams, do the avenging furies lash her through but that, in consequence of her greater command purgatorial flames that burn away guilt; and the over herself, she not only exhibits no sign of perdreary but undismayed desolation in which her ceiving the apparition, but can, with its hideous spirit abides forever is quite other than that dark- form and gesture within a few feet of her, rail at ness, however deep, which the soul acknowledges, Macbeth in that language of scathing irony which, and whence it may yet behold the breaking of a combined with his own terror, elicits from him the dawn shining far off from round the mercy-seat. | incoherent and yet too dangerously significant ap

The nightmare of a butcher (could à butcher peals with which he agonizes her and amazes the deserve to be so visited for the unhappy neces- court. sity of his calling) is more akin to the hauntings! To this supposition I must again object that Lady which beset the woman who has strangled con- Macbeth is nó ghost-seer. She is not of the temperscience and all her brood of pleading angels, andament that admits of such impressions; she is indeliberately armed her heart and mind against all capable of supernatural terror in proportion as she those suggestions of beauty or fear which succor is incapable of spiritual influences ; devils do not the vacillating sense of right in the human soul visibly tempt, nor angels visibly minister to her; with promptings less imperative than those of con- lanci, inoreover, I hold that, as to bave seen Banscience, but of fine subtle power sometimes to sup- quo's ghost at the banqueting-table would have been plement her law. Justly is she haunted by“ blood,” contrary to her nature, to have done so and perwho in the hour of ber atrocities exclaims to her sisted in her fierce mocking of her husband's terror, partner, when his appalled imagination reddens the would have been impossible to human nature. The whole ocean with the bloody hand he seeks to hypothesis makes Lady Macbeth a monster, and cleanse, “A little water clears us of this deed !” | there is no such thing in all Shakespeare's plays. Therefore blood - the feeling of blood, the sight of That she is godless, and ruthless in the pursuit of blood, the smell of blood - is the one ignoble hideous the objects of her ambition, does not make her retribution which has dominion over her. Intruding such. Many men have been so; and she is that a moral element of which she is conscious into Lady unusual and unamiable (but not altogether unnatuMacbeth's punishment is a capital error, because ral) creature, a masculine woman, in the only real her punishment, in its very essence, consists in her significance or that much misapplied epithet. : infinite distance from all such influences. Macbeth, | Lady Macbeth was this : she possessed the qualito the very end, may weep, and wring his hands, ties which generally characterize men, and not and tear his hair, and gnash his teeth, and bewail / women,- energy, decision, daring, unscrupulousthe lost estate of his soul, though with him too the ness; a deficiency of imagination, a great prepondreadful process is one of gradual induration. For derance of the positive and practical mental elehe retains the unutterable consciousness of a soul; ments; a powertul and rapid appreciation of what he has a perception of having sinned, of being each exigency of circumstance demanded, and the fallen, of having wandered, of being lost; and so he coolness and resolution necessary for its immediate cries to his physician for a remedy for thatówounded execution. Lady Macbeth's character has more of spirit,” heavier to bear than all other conceivable the essentially manly nature in it than that of Macsorrow; and utters, in words bitterer than death, beth. The absence of imagination, together with a the doom of his own deserted, despised, dreaded, certain obtuseness of the nervous system, is the conand detested old age. He may be visited to the dition that goes to produce that rare quality, end by those noble pangs which bear witness to the physical courage, which she possesses in a prepre-eminent nobility of the nature he has desecrated, eminent degree. This combination of deficiencies and suggest a reascension, even from the bottoin is seldom found in men, infinitely seldomer in womof that dread abyss into which he has fallen, but en; and its invariable result is insensibility to from the depths of which he yet beholds the ever- many things, - among others, insensibility to danlasting light which gives him consciousness of its ger. Lady Macbeth wes not so bloody as her husdarkness. But she may none of this: she may but cand, or she was by no means equally liable to feel, and see, and smell blood; and wonder at the fear; she would not have hesitated a moment to unquenched stream that she still wades in, — " Who commit any crime that she considered necessary for would bave thought the old man to have had so her purposes, but she would always have known much blood in him ? ” — and fly, hunted through what were and what were not necessary crimes. the nights by that “knocking at the door” which We find it difficult to imagine that, if she had unbeats the wearied life at last out of her stony heart dertaken the murder of Banquo and Fleance, the and seared impenetrable brain.

| latter would have been allowed to escape, and imI once read a pamphlet that made a very strong possible to conceive that she would have ordered impression upon me, on the subject of the possible the useless and impolitic slaughter of Macduft's annihilation of the human soul as the consequence family and followers, after he had fled to England, of sin. The author, supposing goodness to be near from a mere rabid movement of impotent hatred