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the Bill of Rights; and William of Orange had the wisdom to acknowledge and to accept the grand truth. But William of Prussia, after more than a century and a half of European history and European enlightenment, can see no legitimate authority but existent in the crowned heads and princes.' In fact, since then, on the occasion of a deputation from his parliament, he has indulged in a high-flown strain about the divine right of kings. Such is the Prussian monarch, who draws forth strains of enthusiastic eulogy from our authoress. Had he accepted the crown offered by the united votes of a great people, Germany might now have reached the point towards which it must yet probably travel, through many sorrows and confusions; but then he would have forfeited the fervent admiration of the Baroness Blaze de Bury.

From Frederick William of Prussia our authoress passes to Ernest of Hanover, and only to find topics of praise. Very appropriately she puts the compliments on the king of Hanover into the mouth of the Ban Jallachich. While she confesses that Ernest is hated at home and abroad as a despot, she finds one quality to commend him for-firmness. We believe no one will dispute the monarch's possession of this quality; we only wish that he could add to it some others which might give a grace to it in our minds; but Madame de Bury expends the great amount of her admiration on Austria and its governors and generals, and to them we therefore turn our immediate attention. First of all, she confers on the Austrians generally all admirable qualities. Many they undoubtedly possess, but cultivation of intellect is the last for which people in general give them credit.

'Talk to an Austrian peasant upon the subjects he understandsfor he does not burthen himself with any of the loose luggage which the so-called "high degree of intellectual cultivation" in our day drags after it—and you will find his perceptions quick, and his judgment sure, besides which, there is a method, a regularity about all he does, which strikes you forcibly after you have come from Northern Germany. His intelligence is neither lofty nor dazzling, but it is broad and deep, and, like most things both profound and large, presents a flat surface to the eye. Hence it is so often misjudged by those who do not care to penetrate beyond the mere surface. It is an eminently practical intelligence, useful as a corn-field without poppies in it; but cuteness is a quality it quite ignores."-Vol. ii. p. 43.

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One naturally after this looks round for the evidence on the face and history of the nation of this intellect broad and deep and of this practical intelligence.' But it is not worth while on such a subject to be too particular; let us hear what our baroness says of the Ban. She is in raptures with all the amiable traits

of the Croats in general, whom we are accustomed to regard as demi-savages. But we leave them for her portrait of the Ban.

'To judge of the enthusiasm of all ranks, you must speak with the Croats and the red-mantled Sereschaners, who followed their Ban through the Rothen-Thurm-Strasse into the ever gay and now devastated Vienna; from Baden-the Baden near Vienna-whither all who could do so had flown, to the Stephans-Thurm, the progress of the faithful Croats round their heroic chief was a triumph. Wherever they camped, they were at all hours the objects of universal attention from men and women of all ranks; and it was not rare to see the fairest, noblest daughters of Austria holding intercourse, by means of little gifts, with these rude, simple men, whose language they often did not understand. As to the Ban, it was not enthusiasm-that is far too cold a term-it was frenzied adoration that followed his every step; and I doubt whether his own Croats, deeply, devotedly as they love Jellachich, could ever have more ardently expressed their admiration and their love for him than did the rescued, liberated Viennese. On the 1st of November it was not alone Vienna, nor even Austria, that was saved-it was the cause of civilization in Europe.'-Ib. p. 143.

That the Croats are the saviours of European civilization will, we expect, be news to our readers. But our authoress's frenzied adoration of the Ban at least equals that of any fair Vienese, and we must show it.

'Jellachich!-oh! how the sound of that name calls upon me imperatively to stop and tell only of him! But I must go a little farther before I speak of the man who embodies the whole of this period in South Slavonia-more, oh! far more even than that.'-1b. p. 251. "Long life to our hero, to our glorious Ban!"

"And "glorious" is he in every sense of the term; worthy of eternal glory, of undying historic fame.

"Austria is full of heroes just now," said to me in Munich, the fair and interesting Countess T—, herself an Austrian [by the way, if heroes are so abundant, why, we again ask, did Austria call in the Russians to enable it to deal with a single province ?] "But try to see Jellachich, for rely upon it he is what is most perfectly unlike any other being of our times!" And she was right: Jellachich is unlike any one, and stands alone in the wild splendour of his proud fame. He is well formed to be the poetic idol of a poetic race; well formed to be surrounded by them with tender and superstitious reverence.

'Think of him at the battle of Pacozd, and see whether such untaught spirits may not well believe he holds a charmed life.

It was in the month of September, 1848; the foe was before him. The Ban, from the chaussée where his staff was assembled around him, gave the order to turn the enemy's flank: it was misunderstood, and his troops rushed straight on into the very densest destruction dealt around by the cannon of the Magyars. A fearful cry rent the air, "We are betrayed!"-Betrayed! and Jellachich was by! There was no time for reflection; deeds must forestall thought. The Ban

snatched the standard from its bearer, and waving it on high, dashed on, crying, "Who is there will follow me?" All followed him; and as, flag in hand, he spurred his headlong course direct upon the enemies' batteries, a thousand "zivios"-the Croatian vivat-literally made the welkin ring. Death reaped a giant harvest, and the Croats were laid low like ripe wheat; but the Ban, ever foremost where danger raged the hottest, remained unscathed, untouched. The victory was gained; and the soldiers whose maimed bodies over-filled the fieldhospitals echoed, as they resigned their limbs to the surgeon's knife, the cry which led them on to glory-" Zivio Ban!" It was a talisman, a watchword against pain. Some shouted it in triumph, some murmured it in death, but the same words came from every loving heart-Zivio Ban!

'I defy any one, unless he be of stone, and inaccessible to all ennobling emotion, to approach Jellachich unmoved. There is something about him that inspires you with involuntary respect. You reverence while you admire him. The one expression which dominates all others in the fine countenance of the Ban, is goodness: a goodness, a kindness, which draws you irresistibly towards him, and makes you instantly feel that you could trust your life in his hands. On his head, bare now, sits intelligence, sovereign-like; round the gently smiling lips hang the peculiar cast of melancholy which is so essentially Slavonian; but in the eye beams forth a brightness of intellect and magnanimity which at once reveals all the treasures of the soul within.

'I am strongly tempted to believe that the troubles of the last two years in Europe have produced but one man, and that he is Jellachich. He is a living denial of all the falseness, all the baseness, all the corruption of our times. He is an embodied protestation against disloyalty; and while in every country every unworthy passion has been let loose, whilst everywhere men thirsted (let no one say they aspired), for pomp, for power, for even viler gains, Jellachich has been perhaps the only one who, from the peculiarity of his position, has practised renouncement. To play the part of Waldstein successfully, nay, almost without an obstacle, lay before him, and, as I have said, he would not be a Waldstein. Friedland's fame was too small, and Jellachich disdained it. Friedland's honour had a stain, and Jellachich must be immaculate. Duty-worship, the enthusiasm for the right, these are the incentives to every action of the Ban.'-Ib. 264–266.

Such is the tone, such is the style, in which not only the Ban, but also every one on the side of despotism and legitimacy is spoken of in these volumes. Every one in his turn is daubed with the same lavish colouring. This may save us the trouble of quoting the author's sketches of the Emperor of Austria, of Windischgrätz, and Haynau. All are heroes, all amiable, all most able men. It matters not that the Ban was a proclaimed traitor at the commencement of the Hungarian revolution, seeking his own aggrandisement at the expense of his loyalty, he is still actuated by renouncement. What re

nouncement? None, certainly, but that of his allegiance. Pardoned, on condition that he ravaged the territory of his fellowsubjects, and aided in destroying the ancient constitution of Hungary, he is yet full of duty-worship. Always defeated when opposed to the victorious Magyars, and even in the act of flight before them when he took his course to Vienna, he is yet a hero of the first magnitude, and the saviour of the empire, as if no Russians had been in the field. No wonder that Windischgrätz, the solemn and imbecile Windischgrätz, who could bombard the undisciplined people of Prague and Vienna, but became a cypher before the brave Magyars, is still a great and humane man in Madame de Bury's eyes, and that Haynau is tenderness itself. What the people of this country think of this last hero, the rough but right-hearted men of Barclay and Perkins's brewery have proclaimed to all Europe. In vain does the 'Times,' which never uttered a word of pity for the noble women whom this monster flogged, or for the patriotic Bathyányi whom he shot as a traitor, pule over the rough handling of this savage as a disgrace to this country. The fact will go out to all Europe, and will be received everywhere as the honest expression of the common people of England of the indignation with which the Austrian barbarities have been witnessed in this country. In every age the spirit of Englishmen in the ordinary classes, rough and unsophisticated, has spurned the mere expression of complaisance, and given vent to its detestation of monsters of cruelty. As the men of Wapping treated Jeffries, so have the men of Barclay and Perkins's brewery treated Haynau, the savage of the nineteenth century.

Passing, therefore, all the flattering portraitures of the rest of Madame de Bury's Austrian heroes and princes, and equally so the dirt which she flings liberally at the heads of Kossuth, Mazzini, and at all who sought to defend the liberties of their countries, as Hampden, and Cromwell, and Pym, defended theirs here, we will only say, that in one particular we perfectly agree with her that by far the greater portion of the late European revolutionists were, unfortunately, demoralized by infidelity. This was, and must ever prove, a fatal fact for the success of republican opinions. This does not in any degree apply to the Hungarians, for they were neither republicans nor revolutionists, but were fighting for the preservation of their old and established constitution. They were, for the most part, too, men of sound Christian faith. But in France, in Germany, and in a great degree in Italy, the long practised follies and tricks of Catholicism, and the reaction of Hegelian and Straussian scepticism, have swept away every solid foundation on which to build a satisfactory system of political and social polity. Socialism

and infidelity are sands on which no enduring structure can be raised. Their advocates have cut away with the fetters of despotism all the bonds of moral principle, and no two men can agree as to the length to which they shall go, or the principle on which they shall lay their foundation. From the first we foresaw the chaos which this must produce in Germany, and nothing can have been more deplorable than the reality. Add to this the utterly undisciplined nature of the German mind in all that relates to national government on representative and moral principles, and any one acquainted with that country must have been prepared for what has taken place. In England we have been habituating ourselves to representative government ever since we had parliaments, and in the contest with Charles I. we laid that clear basement of popular right which the continental nations are but now endeavouring to lay. In doing this they have yet little conception of working out great constitutional results by anything but crime and homicide. They have learned little of that compromise which every man must make with the spirit of the times. So long as every man, however ultra be his idea, will not consent that any but that idea shall rule, there must be confusion and defeat. Till they learn that the opinion of the majority in a nation must rule so long as it remains the opinion of the majority, and that it is the great work of those who are in advance of that opinion to bring the multitude up to this advanced standard by moral and argumentative means, they have not learned the first rudiments of successful popular government.

A great number of the most active spirits throughout Europe are yet in this impractical condition, and what is worse, without any religious faith to give anchorage to their political theories. We must, therefore, expect yet for a long time that physical force, and the ponderous pressure of soldiery, will bear down reform, and that monarchs will find the strongest security of their arbitrary thrones in the disintegrated moral stamina, and the religious dislocation of their peoples. There we are perfectly agreed with Madame de Bury. The mental revolution of Europe has not yet completed itself; the political is, therefore, at present an impossibility.

But leaving the political and legitimist element in these volumes, we find much that is charming and true. The writer is full of talent, observation, taste, and wit. She looks about her with a penetrating glance, and describes what she sees with much spirit and vivacity; yet she sometimes gives curious proofs of her assertions. For instance, after praising the Austrian women for active kindliness of heart, and saying, 'It is in them, they are all so,' she presents us with a sketch of her

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