On this page
-
Text (3)
-
Untitled Article
-
Untitled Article
-
Untitled Article
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
-
-
Transcript
-
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Untitled Article
division of tbe work . The details are for the most part very interesting , and the effect of the whole is to impress the mind with a sense of the vast magnificence and commercial wealth of the country through which , this great river winds its tremendous course .
Untitled Article
JULIAN . Julian ; or . the Close of an Era . By L . F . Baagener , Author of " The History of the Council of Trent , " " The PHest and the Huguenot , " &c . Hall , Virtue , and Co . Jduan is a species of novel , half historical , half religious , in which the story , properly so called , is oCjecondary importance . It is written from the " Protestant" point of view , p | j ^* aspires to show the nothingness and insufficiency of any ' oilier ' form oT religious belief to bring rest to a " perturbed spirit . " The scene is laid in Paris , in tbe epoch preceding tbe Revolution . Jjolian , the hero , is the child of unknown parents , mysterious protectors have watched over him from his infancy , and he has moved amongst the great world of Paris without knowing the tie which bound him to it . But in the heartless , faithless , brilliant , and superficial society of that epoch , he found no satisfaction for an earnest inquirer after truth . Dazzled , like so many
" * That is possible . ' - , " ' You sought to binder the victory of the people . ' " * I prevented it from disgracing itself by an additional atrocity . ' '' Ana the butchers cried again , ' Away with him to death !' 44 And Julian , turning himself again , said to them calmly , ' I see plainly that I shall havebeea right / . . " And Maillard , as if fascinated , hesitated . One of the jurors , the one whom Julias recognized , ^ nrote rapidly „ some words on a paper . 44 * What did you do at the Tnileries ? ' resumed the president . « Werp you fighting against ' *• * My gown did not permit me to do that . ' ' * Y 6 n were one of the counsellors of the Austrian ?' " * Of the Queen ? - Yes , monsieur . * < c * And whab advice did you give her on that day ?' '" To resist even to death . '
" The clamour is redoubled at this word ; the executioners , as if awaking all at once to the knowledge of their inaction ; lusti towards Julian . Maillard , whet does not wish that he shall be killed in the chamber , ~ hastens-to signify that he is about to > pronounce sentence . He puts on the cap—still observant « f forms , —and—— Bnt the juror . wko ^ was writing ? passes a note to him . He casts his eyes upon it , and a manifest astonishment is depicted on ,-his features . He is silent , and gazes oh Julian . Then , handing . the paper to him , he asks , 4 la that true which is written there ? ' •' .- '• '¦ -, ¦¦¦ . . ** And Julian after looking * at it , answers . It is true . ' * ¦ tu . . . ' * Citizens , ' said the president , ' you hare heard the answers cf the accascd . The . oi tne not stricxen most
juscice jeopie nas cne guilty , ana it will noif ; stop befcm taisman . Silence ! I hare not finished . The justice of the people . I say , wiU snea ( h her sword ; before this man . You cannot put this man to death . He as tbe somof-, ^ qnitK ^ tuh ' : ^ ;» ¦ . « , ' ^ ., " There was a moment of complete stupor . That revel&tioniwasso strings ; . thfcfrnuny of tliera appeared not even to comprehend it ; many also , no doubt , did Jartwrtb ^ coQie quence , and thought that a son of Rousseau become an aristocrat wu pnfy |^ e mare criminal A mere nothing would have turned ttie balance;—a wbrtftittlr ^ ifi ^ of the chamber , would have annulled the decision of the jreaident , and mfosed vaoge ^ ibce into every sword . ¦ • ^ ' . - • • , . ' . .. > .. ' !¦ ¦ . ¦ ¦ - »* : > . - •;••}* < ¦ » . ¦; . p- ^ l-t " They were silent . Thejoutborst . when at last it carafe was such as had followed the
acaiuttal of Saint Meatd , but much more boisterous and exei ^; rfor | hi ^ nurdcreli ^ lia to blind their « yes in order to forgive themselves for sparing one ¦» guunp ^ TE ^^ rttsh towards huh with an ardour that he might well doubt whether it was not ^! ' ^ nUff ^ the intoxication of blood , like that of vine , has its comparison beaiawfi ^ t * feyy- ? ; Th * y ^ Julian ' s hands , nay he even observed some in tears . They compelh ^ to \ mount npoafth table of the Tribunal , that they may . all Bee him . . They endeavour > ty duoayer ia . tJ » i » i fca- ^ tures , those ofj his father ; they almost reproach U ) emgelves with not h&yingrecognis | i them . there . The grand intelligence coif »« a to this executioners outside , —to Aesp ^ ewio ^ in the street ; and as they have not heaid the replies of Julran , a strangei z-sidiyiwj ^ vipwil ^ willh which Marat had fed the populace , is on the instant fabricated . It isr theiuvitotMttffci the court , that have found means to imprison tlie son of Kousseau , in ^ oMer that : th »^ peoplt , being misled , might involve hint ia the chastisement of the guilty , < T ^ eyz-are ^ iiid ^ nuuit ^ they are wroth , they are . exasperated ; the men m the halL who know the troth , ot * the
. matter , yield to the electrical impression from without . Julian is taken fr ^ ih the table . Two men place him upon their shoulders , another , taking the bust , ^ ! pri * e 3 eiW « ntl' iiid ^ EKe crowd bursts out into shouts of Vive Rousseau , J Maillard . and his jororsjbm their icchuiutions to those of the multitude , and lie who had come forth , to die , was , oarried in , triumph ' over . the mangled corpses of his companions in prison . , .. ,. ¦— . > s' , j > , " Julian accepted life , but not this abominable homage . At the risk ' of forcing the twertjO . recollect whom , it held in its now . merciful claws , he struggled against these deaftel ^ % a ^ w > ports , but ho attention was paid to bis resistance , and his voice wasloi ^ m'tlie ^ n ^ uW He resisted , however , as far as to the cutw gate ; but when he < behd ^^ theatre which he had only in part parceived from the tower ^ tbat aea ; sLo £ ibtoe ^ fin » whic the mangled corpse of Montsabray was swimming , those pikeB tbow hatchets , jAcie clubs ,. those bloody hands and arms that heap of naked corpses awaiting tbe waggon to convey ineta to ine tnen tri aimosc
cacacomos;— ne ceasea xo sve , ana aeaa nimsejuv ne auowea himself to be carried , as long as they wished , ' about this scenes of horrors . The bust of his father bid fallen on the pavement , and the broken plaster na 4 imbit > ed ^ m atftir seieftids , as much as it could absorb of blood . * - rj > / u- , - " In thus giving himself up to their hands , Julian yielded- less to the tmdtioa of the spectacle thaa under the w « ight " of * fearfu ^ tita > ught , fetal ) as it-wqijef ; of a fa ^ eaq ^ ion The son of Rousseau * he was doomed ,- to have ^ is ^ p lace aad h&part hi th « bldody > achlewk ment of his father's work . Konsaeau had notvsaid in » formal terttns , ' JdasiMirelV b ^ Rousseau had cast on the world all those wild ideas Which the people could only'write'down in Wood ; and the homage of the murderers assigned to him alarge share ofth ^ nsponsu bility of all the crimes which had been committed . That Btist of his ftther , soakedmblood , was the image of his work , and Julian inherited , his disgrace at the same tune , with bis . glory . " - :
others , by the apparent earnestness and love of virtue shown ia the writings of Rousseau , he was one of his most enthusiastic worshippers , when an accidental interview with his idol dispels his illusions ; and just at the moment when he has sustained this shock , he discovers in the dethroned Jean Jacques his unknown father . His mind is again torn and distracted by doubts ; he bears the additional burden of a hopeless love ; tbe world has offered him no resting-place , —he turns to the ^ Church . " Disappointed in BotisSeau , in St . Germain , in Mesmer , hi St . Martin , whither should he turn to stall the yearning of bis soul for truth , for peace ! Oh that he could circumscribe his life , and with it his nund , into a narrow circle ! Oh that some masterspirit would teach hint utterly to forget self , and to bow in unquestioning obedience to all . that he should think , believe , or do I His reason would there be dormant ; his conscience would there follow a , distinctly traced path . This might be a moral tomb , but at least it would , be peace . This
tomb the church offered him , either in a monastic life or in the priestly office . But in a convent be would too sorely find himself still the same man , The ever active spirit , and the yeatning heart most be occupied -with some illusions ,,, and therefore Julian preferred the native life of a priest . There in the garb of religion , he might perhaps attain peace , without being forced to acknowledge that he was sinking between ' faith and incredulity . Did he not perceive this to be the case with so many others ? Bat he resolved that once called upon to believe , 'either from bis position or from duty , he would endeavour to adhere to that duty , or to-that position , without troubling himself about other things . As the medium only of instruction transmitted to him , he would band down the ? dogmas to others , without sifting their origin ; he would seek to persuade himself that man not being cognisant of his responsibility , it was also bidden from his conscience and from God;—if , indeed , there were u God . In short , aa ^ tiis was what he reckoned on most , be should be able to do good , to console the unhspifff . and to relieve tlie poor .
" When ms gay and fashionable friends were informed that the Chevalier Julian bad become pjsietfc ^ they commented much on this determination . It was , indeed , very rare with a youngmiaft of his age ; ' it was generally either earlier or later , before or after the passions , that fflfen threw themtelTes into the cburch . - "JBte soon attained bis end . . His studies wore limited to a fewmontls' residence at a seminary , where for foonCs sake , he received a few lessons , and as to the ground-work , he succeeded an / paswiffover ttiat without examination . His mind and heart were prepared for the renunciation . Weary of being a man , he said to himself , ' I will repeat like a . child , whatever I ism told to repeat ; ' and ho had repeated like a child . If his former self sometimes returned ) , he would nlence it with alarms . Did he wish to relapse into his miseries ? Assuredly not . Conscience , too , had its conflicts ; but he resolved to stMe her , and to a certain extent succeeded . The Jean its were dissolved : but the morality of the schools- was then , aa it is now ; that of the Jesuits , not so bad in ' some points , but far worse in others than Pascal has represented it . " It is scarcely necessary to add . that this new refuge fails him .
" But woe be to him who is reduced to reckon upon the annihilation of bis own being ! A living man cannot of his own accord become a corpse . " Life soon- returned to Julian , and with life , suffering . To his old griefs he bad joined that of a perpetual lie , having condemned himself to this in order to drive away the others . " During ; this p hase of his life , while seeking a faith and finding none , chance throws into his hands a Protestant Bible , the prison companion of an ancient Huguenot martyr , who had recorded on its blank leaves the history of similar doubts and struggles ., resulting in final and triumphant conviction . Julian becomes a Protestant , and finds in : that faith the repose and consolation he has hitherto sought in vain . "With all this is interwoven the history of his love for Marie de Charigny , crossed by the machinations of a Catholic priest , and finally crushed , when all difficulties seem to be removed , by
the discovery that she is his sister . Almost immediately after this denouement , both are swallowed as victims by the whirlpool of the revolution . Viewed under its other aspect , the historical one , —this novel presents us with a series of very graphic pictures of the state of society in France at that epoch ; of the feverish and unnatural calm which preceded the great moral convulsion so soon to follow ; of the frivolous , artificial , false tone of morals and philosophy ; of the blinded eyes ; of tbe hardened hearts ; of the mistakes , the follies , and the madness winch distinguish that awful period , when , as Carlyle expresses it , France was " rushing down . " As a sample of the author ' s style , and powers of description , we will extract . the trial of Julian before the Revolutionary tribunal , a scene neither unnatural nor uncommon in those days of delirious excitement and ill-directed enthusiasm .
' They place him before the table . Maillard was just affixing his large signature to the registered notice of the acquittul of St . Mdard , when he raised bims « lt again : ' Your name ? said he . " * The AbbAjuHan . " ' A nonjuring priest r ' "' Yes , monsieur . ' " T ' two men who held him mado a movement to lead him away . Tlao avowal that ho bad just made had been the sentence of death for all tho other prieats . " But the president eoemed to endeavour to recollect bis features . " ' Stop a moment , said be . * You were at tb « Tuilerios . this register informs me . ' " ' Yes , monsieur .
'I | With the assassins of the people ?' I ! ' T ' iere were no other assassins at tho Tuileries than those whom you brought thore . ' ^ One may easily imagine tho tumu . lt which followed these words . ^ ' Ho calls us assassins 1 Away with him to death I And Julian , turning himself , said , 'Do you wish me to prove that I am right ?' *" s coo ' neB 8 o ^ orcamo them . They cried out , and yet they did not take him away tne two men pressed bis arm with rag « , nnd yet did not remove bun . Mailliird regarded liim witb growing attention . L . " ' I I'uvo it I' buiil he ut lust . ' I iaw you at the Rastilo . '
Untitled Article
THE MEDITERRANEAN . The Mediterranean . A Memoir , Physical , Historical , and Nautical , Bv Admiral Smyth . J . W . Parker and Son . Few subjects are more interesting than the connexion between physical jgeography and the historical development of man ; in other words j tho tracin ^ baok science , opinion , social institutions?—every modification of life and / thought * to that relation between the primitive wants of man and the local coitetltution of the earth , which is their common root . The processes -which determined the upheaving of a mountain chain , the coarse of a riveri the spreading of a sandy desert , or the formation of an inland sea , determined also the characteristics of a people , tt » e birth-place of a science , the path along which commerce and culture should travel ; determined whether a region should remain for ages the nursing-place of aggressive hordes , or early become the theatre of a complex political and social drama . On climate , soil , and the distribution of land and water depended the various modes in
which primitive tribes had to win their physical sustenance , and in this first rude wrestling of man for the mastery over Nature , lay the germ of all polity , art , speculation , and science . The grandest example of this relation between the local conformation of the earth and the destinies of man is the Mediterranean . But for this sea with its moderate extent but wide variety of coast , with its archipelago , its central chain of islands , its peninsulas where the sea seems to have been beguiled into long deviations for the sake of caressing the lovely land—but for this miniature ocean to stimulate infant enterprise and colonisation , it is inconceivable how European culture could ever have come into existence . This is the thought which thrills us at the first glimpse of its blue waves , and whicli gives a charm to the very name of the Mediterranean , as the word which resumes in itself the dearest
memories of our race . Though the first navigation of the Mediterranean belongs to the period of myth , the progress of hydrographical science had been so slow up to the beg inning of the present century , that there existed no accurate charts of the Mediterranean , " not the position of ai headland or a lighthouse could be depended upon , " and " even the breadth of the entrance to the Adriatic was unlcnown . ' To Admiral Smyth the world is indebted for supplying this deficiency—a service to which he has devoted the beat energies of hia Hie . On ©
Untitled Article
May 13 , 1854 . ] THE LEADER . 44 ;
-
-
Citation
-
Leader (1850-1860), May 13, 1854, page 449, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2038/page/15/
-