ane of her best, and was translated, in 1798, bra into English; a language in which the writer was well versed, as indeed she was in English literature generally, far beyond the usual acquirements of a foreigner. Madame de Stael was with her father tre when the French troops invaded Switzerland; and though he had been placed on the Emigrant list by Robespierre, and consequently exposed to death wherever the Ce troops came, his daughter's influence with the Directory was sufficient to secure him e not only safety, but respect, and the erasure of his name from this sanguinary roll. She then returned to Paris and her husband; ma but in a few months, either tired by the The persecutions to which she was exposed, or prompted by some other motive, hastened back to the repose of Copet. In 1798, the aat dangerous illness of the Baron de Stael reare called her to Paris, where she received his last sigh, and soon left the metropolis for red Switzerland. After this period she published an essay "On the Influence of Literature upon Society," which may be considered as a continuation of the two last mentioned Works In 1800, Bonaparte, in passing through Geneva, had the curiosity to visit M Necker, and, according to rumour. Madame de Stael took this opportunity to read him a long dissertation on the course he ought to pursue for the prosperity of France. The First Consul, it is added, who did not relish the political plans of ladies, listened to her very patiently, and in the end coolly inquired "who educated her children!" ご The well-known novel of Delphine, written during this retirement, was printed at Geneva in 1802, and excited great attention in England, France and Germany; where it has been translated, attacked, criticised, and praised, according to the wants or humours of the parties. The author published a defence of her work. In 1803 she revisited Paris, and formed that connection with Mr Benjamin Constant, a Swiss, of considerable literary attainments, which lasted to the day of her death Whether for past or present offences is not easy to tell, but Napoleon was not slow in banishing her to the distance of forty leagues from the capital. Report says, that on this occasion the Lady told him: You are giving me a cruel celebrity; I shall occupy a line in your history." This sentence is so ambiguous, that we shall not venture to pronounce whether it was a defiance or a compliment! Madame de Stael first went to Auxerre, which she left for Rouen, and with an intention to settle in the valley of Montmorency, in search, as she gave out, of more agreeable society. But Rouen and Montmorency were within the forty leagues, and Bonaparte was not accustomed to have his prohibitions infringed upon. She was ordered to withdraw, and, in company with her daughter, and protector Mr. Constant, journeyed to Frankfort, and thence to Prussia, where she applied herself to the cultivation of German literature. From Berlin, in 1804, she hastened to Copet, on receiving intelligence of her father's danger; but he died before she reached the place. A mortality in her family invariably consigned our subject to the occupation of the study. At Geneva, in the year 1805, issued the Manuscripts of Mr. Necker, published by his daughter." 46 Still further to divert her mind, she next travelled into Italy, and collected materials for perhaps her most celebrated work, "Corinna, or Italy," which has been translated into many languages. Having returned to Geneva, Madame de Stael amused herself with appearing upon the stage in 1806, and performed in tragedy with considerable skill There is a drama from her pen, called "Secret Sentiment," but we do not know its date. She has also given to the world a work entitled" Germany," embodying her observation on that country. It has provoked some controversy. Letters and Reflections of the Prince de Ligne," in two volumes; Essay on Suicide;" and several minor publications, as well as many contributions to the periodical press in Geneva, Paris, and elsewhere, complete the catalogue of her productions. an " Madame de Stael has twice visited England; formerly during the revolutionary conflict, when she resided in a small Gothic house at Richmond, which is visible from the river above the bridge; and again about three years ago. During her stay in London, she was much courted by persons of the highest rank, and of all parties. Some of her bon-mots are in circulation, but we can neither vouch for their authenticity, nor have we left ourselves space for their repetition. The party in France with which she was most intimately connected at the time of her decease, is that known by the name of the "Constitutionnel." The Mercure, we have reason to believe, recorded the latest of her opinions, and the last tracings of her prolific pen. Faithful to the promise with which we set out, we shall now refrain entirely from discussing the merits or demerits of her life and writings.§. These merits assuredly raise her to a foremost rank among the female authors of our age; and these demerits, whe * Since writing this we have ascertained that this piece was composed in 1786, and the Tragedy of Lady Jane Gray in 1787. About the same time Madame de Stael wrote an Eulogy on Guibert," not published, but quoted in the Correspondence of Baron Grimm. This work was suppressed by Bonaparte, and subsequently published in London, from a copy secreted by the author, in 1814. Translated into English by Mr. D. Boileau. We beg permission to annex, in a note, a neat and epigrammatic opinion on these points, for which we are indebted to a very able countryman of M. de Stael. "Née à Paris d'un père Genevois, et ayant épousé un Suédois, Madame de Stael sembla réunir en elle les qualités particulères des trois nations qui sembloient avoir influé sur son existence. On trouve dans ses ouvrages le brillant de l'imagination Françoise, la métaphysique de Genève, et les principes littéraires particulièrement adopiés dans le Nord de l'Europe. ther springing from "susceptibility of being misled," as urged by her father, from the pernicious inculcations of modern philosophy, or from but we will not proceed: her earthly account is just closed, and her frailties with her sorrows alike repose in trembling hope, awaiting the decision of an immortal tribunal." Lond. Literary Gazelle. From the transactions of the Caledonian Horticultural Society. A method of cultivating Asparagus, as it is practised in France. By Dr. MACCULLOCH. That part of the garden which is longest exposed to the sun, and least shaded by shrubs and trees, is to be chosen for the situation of the asparagus quarter. A pit is then to be dug five feet in depth, and the mould which is taken from it must be sifted, taking care to reject all stones, even as low in size as a filberd nut. The best parts of the mould must then be laid aside for making up the beds. The materials of the bed are then to be laid in the following proportions and order: Six inches of common dunghill manure. Six inches of dung as before. Six inches of very rotten dung. The quarter must now be divided into beds five feet wide, by paths constructed of tur, two feet in breadth, and one foot in thickness. The asparagus must be planted about the end of March, eighteen inches asunder. In planting them, the bud, or top of the shoot, is to be placed at the depth of an inch and a half in the ground, while the roots must be spread out as wide as possible in the form of an umbrella. A small bit of stick must be placed as a mark at each plant, as it is laid in the ground. As soon as the earth is settled and dry, a spadeful of fine sand is to be thrown on each plant, in the form of a molebill. If the asparagus plants should have begun to shoot before their transplantation, the young shoots should be cut off, and the planting will, with these precautions, be equally successful, though it should be performed in this country even as late as July. Should any of the plants originally inserted have died, they also may be replaced at this season. The plants ought to be two years old when they are transplanted; they will even take at three; but at four they are apt to fail. If it be necessary to buy asparagus plants for these beds, it will be proper to procure twice as many as are required. The best Madame de Stael was one of the writers in the Biographic Universelle," in which the articles Aspasie, Camoens, Cleopatra," &c. are from her pen. Two letters from her to Taima appeared in a Bourdeaux Journal about a month ago. She was upon the point of publishing "Considerations on the respective situation of France and England in 1813," at the time of her decease. We take it for granted Atliat it will be edited. must then be selected for planting, and the remainder placed in some remote portion of the prepared bed, or into a similar situation, but without separating the plants. Here they must first be covered with four inches of sand during the summer, and as soon as the frost sets in with six inches of dung over that. The stems of the planted asparagus must be cut down as soon as the frost commences, and close to the ground. The beds are then to be covered with six inches of dung, and four of sand. In March the bed must be stirred with a fork, taking care not to ap them. Towards the end of April, the plants proach so near to the plants as to derange reserved ones lately described. which have died, may be replaced with the In three years the largest plants will be fit to cut for use. If the beds be sufficiently large to furnish a supply in this manner, the asparagus shoots should be cut as fast as they appear; otherwise they must be left till the a quantity required has pushed forth; in which case the variety in colour and size prevents them from having so agreeable an appearance. An iron knife is used for this purpose. * In cutting, the knife is to be slipped along the stem, till it reaches the bottom of the shoot, where the cut is to be made. At the end of four years the great and small ones may be taken indiscriminately. The cutting should cease about the end of June. At the beginning of winter the stems are y dung and sand in the manner above describall to be cut away, and the beds covered with ed. If muddy sand from the sea-shore can be procured for the several purposes above described, it is the best; otherwise, river sand may be used; and if that cannot be procured, fine earth must be substituted. nerally last thirty years; but if they be planted The asparagus bed now described will gein such abundance as to require cutting only once in two years, half the bed being always in a state of reservation, it will last a century, or more. The turf used in making the beds should be very free from stones. the Care must be taken not to tread on the beds, so as to condense the earth, in planting asparagus; and to prevent such an accident happening on any other occasion, a plank should be used to tread on. It must be remembered, that the division of the beds. which is formed by thick turf, is intended to prevent the condensation of the earth below, in consequence of the necessary walking among the beds. As in the course of time this condensation will gradually take place, the turf ought to be renewed every three years, for the purpose of stirring the ground below: and in applying the winter coat of manure, it must be remembered, that even these walks are to be covered. If these circumstances are not attended to, or if the earth below the walks has not originally been constructed in the way described above, the asparagus plants which grow near the walks will be much less fine than those in the middle of the beds. 13. Cabinet of Varieties. I understand that this plan has been put in practice by Mr. Allan, of Tweedside, with success. From an English Paper. EARLY DEPRAVITY. The complainant stated, that on Saturday The ages of the two boys accused by Sullivan were six and seven years. The members of a Committee who superintend a free school where the three boys had been received, stated to the Alderman that Alley and Conolly were, up to the time of the crime with which they were charged, honest and armless children; but that Sullivan was a boy of the most incorrigible habits of theft. The Alderman ordered that the father of Sullivan, who was during the examination in the office, should be put to the Bar, next his on, as it was most improbable that a child hould engage in such dangerous enterprises without the authority and instruction of some xperienced person; and as the stolen artides had been found at the father's lodgings, here was reason in supposing that some deraved participation existed between him and is son. The father was, however, proved to be wholly ignorant of the boy's conduct; and it Was stated by several of the police, as well 151 Sen. had done all in his power to correct the as by some respectable persons, that Sullivan, unfortunate propensities of his child. The following was the story told by the two children, Alley and Conolly:-As they go every day, they met Sullivan, who had were going to school, to which they used to formerly been their school-fellow. Sullivan told them be would show them how to make money to buy cakes and apples; said it was them to attend him at night to Warwick lane, foolish to go to school, and prevailed upon coffee-shop, put an iron instrument into the where he raised them up to the sky-light of a hands of one of them, and made him break the window with it. He then obliged the other, who is a cripple, to tie a rope to a bar which ran across on the inside, and with the assistance of both, succeeded in dragging the bar from its place. He then sent the more active boy through the sky-light, with orders thing else he could carry. All the money the to steal all the money he could get, and any boy found consisted of two bad dollars and a halfpenny with a hole in it. The other property he took was that found at Sullivan's lodgings. As soon as the business was done, Sullivan took all the plunder, and threatened to hang them if they said a word. said, the tools with which the burglary had tradesman here stepped forward and been effected were some time ago stolen from house for the purpose of entering another his house by Sullivan, who broke open one with greater facility. trial. His father was discharged. Alley's SKETCHES OF SOCIETY AND THE PLAY AT VENICE. Some years since, a German Prince making a tour of Europe, stopped at Venice for a short period. It was the close of summer, ly, the Venitian women in the full enjoyment the Adriatic was calm, the nights were loveof those delicious spirits that in their climate rise and fall with the coming and the deparday was given by the illustrious stranger to ture of this finest season of the year. Every researches among the records and antiquities ties on the Brenta or the sea. of this singular city, and every night to paring was nigh, it was the custom to return As the morn from the water to sup at some of the palaces his intercourse all national distinctions were of the nobility. In the commencement of carefully suppressed. But as his intimacy increased, he was forced to see the lurking vanity of the Italian breaking out. One of its most frequent exhibitions was in the little dramas, that wound up those stately festivities. The wit was constantly sharpened by some contrast of the Italian and the German, some slight aspersion on Teutonic rudeness, some remark on the history of a people un touched by the elegance of Southern manners. The sarcasm was conveyed with Italian grace, and the offence softened by its humour. It was obvious that the only retaliation must be humorous. At length the Prince, on the point of taking leave, invited his entertainers to a farewell supper. He drew the conversation to the infinite superiority of the Italian, and above all of the Venetian, acknowledged the darkness in which Germany bad been destined to remain so long, and looked forward with infinite sorrow to the comparative opinion of posterity upon a country to which so little of its gratitude must be due. "But my Lords," said he, rising, we are an emulous people, and an example like yours cannot be lost even upon a German. I have been charmed with your dramas, and have contrived a little arrangement to give one of our country, if you will condescend to follow me to the great hall." The company rose and followed him through the splendid suit of a Venetian villa, to the hall which was fitted up as a German barn. The aspect of the theatre produced first surprise and next an universal smile. It had no resemblance to the gilded and sculptured saloons of their own sumptuous little theatres. However it was only so much the more Teutonic. The curtain drew up. The surprise rose into loud laughter, even among the Venetians, who have been seldom betrayed into any thing beyond a smile for generations together. The stage was a temporary erection, rude and uneven. The scenes represented a wretched and irregular street, scarcely light ed by a few twinkling lamps, and looking the fit haunt of robbery and assassination. On a narrower view some of the noble spectators began to think it had a kind of resemblance to an Italian street, and some actually discovered in it one of the leading streets of their own famous city. But the play was on a German story, they were under a German roof. The street was, notwithstanding its illomened similitude, of course German. The street was solitary. At length a traveller, a German, with pistols in a belt round his waist, and apparently exhausted by his journey, came heavily pacing along. He knocked at several of the doors, but could obtain no admission. He then wrapped himself up in his cloak, sat down upon a fragment of a monument and soliloquized. Well, here have I come, and this is my reception. All palaces, no inns, all nobles, and not a man to tell me where I can lie down in comfort or in safety. Well, it cannot be helped. A German does not much care, campaigning has hardened effeminacy among us. Hunger and thirst, heat and cold, dangers of war and the roads, are not very formidable after what we have had to work through from father to sou. Loneliness however is not so well, unless a man can labour or read. Read, that's true, come out Zimmerman." He drew a volume from his pocket, moved nearer to a decaying lamp, and soon seemed absorbed. He had till now been the only object. Another soon shared the eyes of the spectators. A long, light figure came with a kind of visionary movement from behind the monument, surveyed the traveller with keen curiosity, listened with apparent astonishment to bis words, and in another moment had fixed itself gazing over his shoulder on the volume. The eyes of this singular being wandered rapidly over the page, and when it was turned they were lifted up to heaven with the strongest expression of wonder. The German was weary, his head soon drooped over his study, and he closed the book. What," said he, rising and stretching his limbs, **is there no one stirring in this comfortless place? Is it not near day?" He took out his repeater, and touched the pendant, it struck four. His mysterious attendant had watched him narrowly the repeater was traversed over with an eager gaze; but when it struck, delight was mingled with the wonder that had till then filled its pale, intelligent countenance. "Four o'clock," said the German, in my country, half the world would be thinking of going to the day's work by this time. In another hour it will be sun-rise. Well then, I'll do you a service, you nation of sleepers, and make you open your eyes." He drew out one of his pistols, and fired it. The attendant form, still hovering behind him, had looked curiously upon the pistol, but on its going off, started back in terror. and with a loud cry that made the traveller turn-"Who are you?" was his greeting to this strange intruder. "I will not hurt you," was the answer. Who cares about that ?" | was the German's retort, aud he pulled out the other pistol. My friend," said the figure, Even that weapon of thunder and lightning cannot reach me now. But if you would know who I am, let me entreat you to satisfy my curiosity a moment. You seem a man of extraordinary powers." "Well then," said the German in a gentler tone, "if you come as a friend, I shall be glad to give you information; it is the custom of our country to deny nothing to those who will love or learn." The former sighed deeply and murmured. " and yet you are a Tueton; but you were just reading a little case of strange and yet most interesting figures: was it manuscript?" No, it was a printed book! "Printed, what is printing? I never heard but of writing." 64 Cabinet of Varieties. How, when I had the luxuries of the earth at my command, I had nothing to tell the hour better than the clepsydra and the sundial. But this must be incomparable from its facility of being carried about, from its suitableness to all hours, from its exactness. It must be an admirable guide even to higher knowledge. All depends upon the exactness of time. It may assist navigation, astronomy. What an invention! whose was it? he must be more than man." "He was a German ?" What, still a barbarian! I remember his nation. I once saw an auxiliary legion of them marching towards Rome. They were a bold and brave blue-eyed troop. The whole city poured out to see those northern warriors, but we looked on them only as gallant savages. I have one more question, the most interesting of all. I saw you raise your hand, with a small truncheon in it; in a moment something rushed out, that seemed a portion of the fire of the clouds. Were they thunder and lightning that I saw ? Did they come by your command? Was that truncheon a talisman, and are you a mighty magician? Was that truncheon a sceptre commanding the elements? The strange inquirer had drawn back graAre you a god? dually as his feelings rose. now solemn wonder, and he stood gazing Curiosity was upward in an attitude that mingled awe with devotion. The German felt the sensation of a superior presence growing on himself as he looked on the fixed countenance of this mysterious being. It was in that misty blending of light and darkness which the moon leaves as it sinks just before morn. There was a single hue of pale grey in the East that touched its visage with a chill light, the moon resting broadly on the horizon was setting behind, the figure seemed as if it was standing in the orb. Its arms were lifted towards heaven, and the light came through its drapery with the mild splendour of a vision. But the German, habituated to the vicissitudes of "perils by flood and field," shook off his brief alarm, and proceeded calmly to explain the source of his miracle. He gave a slight detail of the machinery of the pistol, and alluded to the history of gun-powder. "It must be a mighty instrument in the hands of man for either good or ill," said the form. "How much it must change the nature of war! how much it must influence the fates of nations! By whom was this wondrous secret revealed to the treaders upon the earth "" A German." The form seemed suddenly to enlarge, its feebleness of voice was gone, its attitude was irresistably noble. Before it had uttered a word, it looked as made to persuade and command. Its outer robe had been flung away ; it now stood with an antique dress of brilliant white, gathered in many folds, and edged with a deep border of purple; a slight wreath of laurel, dazzlingly green, was on its brow. It looked like the Genius of Eloquence. "Stranger," said it, pointing to the Appennines, which were then beginning to be VOL. -No. TI. 66 153 marked by the twilight, "eighteen hundred years have passed away since I was the glohundred years have passed into the great ry of all beyond those mountains. Eighteen flood of eternity since I entered Rome in triumph, and was honoured as the leading mind of the great intellectual empire of the world. But I knew nothing of those things. the discoverers of those glorious potencies. I was a child to you, we were all children to But has Italy not been still the mistress of not kept her superiority? Show me her nomind? She was then first of the first; has she ble inventions. I must soon sink from the earth-let me learn still to love my country." The listener started back; "Who, what Show me, by the love of a patriot, what are you?" "I am a spirit. I was CICERO. Italy now sends out to enlighten mankind." came. The German looked embarrassed; but in pipe and tabor. He pointed in silence to the a moment after he heard the sound of a narrow street from which the interruption A ragged figure tottered out with a barrel organ at his back, a frame of puppets in his hand, a hurdy-gurdy round his neck, The German bowed his head. The showand a string of dancing dogs in his train, CICERO uttered but one sigh-"Is this Italy!" show against the wall! Fine Madame Cataman began his cry-" Raree show, fine raree rina dance upon de ground. Who come for de galantee show!" The organ struck up, the dogs danced, the Italian capered round them. CICERO raised his broad gaze to heaven: the orators, the poets, the patriots of manThese the men of my country-these kind! What scorn and curse of providence can have fallen upon them?" As he gazed, beam struck across the spot where he stood, tears suddenly suffused his eyes, the first sungone! a purple mist rose around him, and he was from their seats, and rushed out of the hall. particularly under the succeeding Emperors, As early as the reign of Augustus but more a partiality for the Greek language and Greek Romans, than the partiality for the French fashions was not less prevalent among the language and French fashions is, at the preconcurred to produce this effect-a frequent sent day, among the English. Two causes intercourse between the respective countries, and a love of novelty common to all mankind. If the Romans had been content with adopting a few only of the more elegant arts and fashions of the Greeks, no mark would have sprung up against which the shafts of the satirist could have been pointed; but |