not die, and through the improvement of its individuals it has the assurance of its own advance. It is immortal on earth, and will constantly gather new and richer fruits from the successive generations as they stretch through unknown time. To Chinese vision, the period of the present may always seem barren, but it is sure to yield its contribution to the indefinite accumulations which are the token of an indefinite progress.

Figures speak sometimes as words cannot speak. Let me illustrate, then, in one aspect only, by the statistics of life, the capacity for improvement in the human race. Could Descartes, that seer of science, now re-visit this place of his comprehensive labours and divine aspirations, he might well be astonished to know the present fulfilment— in so short a period of the life of humanity-of his glowing anticipations, uttered a little more than two centuries ago, of the improved health and life of men. The following table, compiled from authentic sources, shows that even the conqueror death has been slowly driven back, and his inevitable triumph at least postponed.

Table showing the diminution of mortality in countries.

Look at the cradles of the nations and races which have risen to grandeur, and learn from the barbarous wretchedness by which they were originally surrounded, that no lot can be removed from the influence of the law of progress. The Feejee Islander, the Bushman, the Hottentot, the Congo negro cannot be too low for its care. No term of imagined "finality" can arrest it. The polished Briton, whose civilization we now admire, is a descendant, perhaps, of one of those painted barbarians whose degradation still lives in the pages of Julius Cæsar. Slowly, and by degrees, he has reached the position where he now stands; but he cannot be arrested here. The improvement of the past is the earnest of still further improvement in the long ages of

the future.

The signs of improvement may appear at a special period-in a limited circle only-among the people favoured of God, who have enjoyed the peculiar benefits of commerce and Christianity; but the VOL. II.—JUNE, 1849.

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blessed influence cannot be restrained to any time, to any place, or to any people. Every victory over evil redounds to the benefit of all. Every discovery, every humane thought, every truth, when declared, is a conquest of which the whole human family are partakers. It extends by so much their dominion, while it lessens by so much the sphere of their future struggles and trials. Thus it is, while nature is always the same, the power of man is ever increasing. Each day gives him some new advantage. The mountains have not grown in size; but man has broken through their passes. The winds and waves are capricious ever, as when they first beat upon the ancient Silurian rocks; but the steamboat,

"Against the wind, against the tide,
Now steadies on with upright keel."

The distance between two places upon the surface of the globe is the same to-day as when the continents were first heaved from their ocean bed; but the inhabitants can now, by the art of man, commune together. Much still remains to be done; but the Creator did not speak in vain, when he blessed his earliest children, and bade them "to multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it."

But there shall be nobler triumphs than any over inanimate nature. Man himself shall be subdued-subdued to abhorrence of vice, of injustice, of violence-subdued to the sweet charities of life-subdued to all the requirements of duty and religion-subdued, according to the law of human progress, to the recognition of that gospel law, by the side of which the first is as the scaffolding upon the sacred temple, the law of human brotherhood. To labour for this end was man sent forth into the world,—not in the listlessness of idle perfections, but, endowed with infinite capacities, inspired by infinite desires, and commanded to strive perpetually after excellence-amidst the encouragements of hope, the promise of final success, and the inexpressible delights which spring from its pursuit. Thus does the law of human progress

. assert eternal Providence,

And justify the ways of God to men.'

In the recognition of this law, there are motives to beneficent activity, which shall endure to the last syllable of life. Let the young embrace it; they shall find in it an ever-living spring. Let the old cherish it still; they shall derive from it fresh encouragement. It shall give to all, both old and young, a new appreciation of their existence, a new sentiment of their force, a new revelation of their destiny. It shall be another covenant, like the bow in the heavens, that no honest, earnest

The Sultan of Turkey is projecting railroads, and planning a system of primary instruction for children. He encourages also the cultivation of the Turkish language and literature by offering prizes for the best translations, and by other means.-ED.

effort for the welfare of man can be in vain-that it shall send its quickening influence through the uncounted ages before us, and contribute to the coming of that blessed future of intelligence, of peace, of freedom, which we would now fain secure for ourselves, but cannot. And though not, in our own persons, the partakers of these brighter days, ours may be the pleasure at least of foreseeing them, of enjoying them in advance, or the satisfaction sweeter still of hastening by some moments the too distant epoch.

A life filled by this thought shall have comforts and consolations, which else were unknown. In the flush of youthful ambition, in the self-confidence of success, we may be indifferent to the calls of humanity; but history, reason, and religion, all speak in vain, if any selfish works-not helping the progress of mankind-although favoured by worldly smiles, can secure that happiness and content which all covet as the crown of life. Look at the last days of Prince Talleyrand, and learn the wretchedness of an old age, which was enlightened by no memory of generous toils, by no cheerful hope for his fellow-men. Then, when the imbecilities of existence rendered him no longer able to grasp power, or to hold the threads of intrigue, he surrendered himself to discouragement and despair. By the light of a lamp which he trimmed in his solitude he traced these lines-the most melancholy lines ever written by an old man;-think of them, politician!-"Eightythree years of life are now passed! filled with what anxieties! what agitations! what enmities! what troublous complexities! And all this with no other result than a great fatigue, physical and moral, and a profound sentiment of discouragement with regard to the future, and of disgust for the past."* Poor old man! poor indeed! In his loneliness, in his failing age, with death waiting at his palace gates, what to him were the pomps he had enjoyed! What were titles! What were offices! What was the lavish wealth in which he lived! More precious far at that moment would have been the consolation, that he had laboured for his fellow-men, and the joyous confidence that all his cares had helped the progress of his race.

Be it, then, our duty and our encouragement to live and to labour, ever mindful of the future. But let us not forget the past. All ages have lived and laboured for us. From one has come art—from another jurisprudence from another the compass-from another the printingpress-from all have proceeded priceless lessons of truth and virtue. The earliest and most distant times are not without a present influence on our daily lives.

Nor should we be too impatient to witness the fulfilment of our aspirations. The daily increasing rapidity of discovery and improvement, and the daily multiplying efforts of beneficence, in later years, outstripping the imaginations of the most sanguine, furnish well-grounded assurance that the advance of man will be with a constantly accelerating

Louis Blanc, Histoire de Dix Ans. Tom. v. cap. 10.

speed. The extending intercourse among the nations of the earth, and among all the children of the human family, gives new promises of the complete diffusion of truth. And yet, while confident of the future and surrounded by heralds of certain triumph, let us learn to moderate our anticipations; nor imitate those children of the Crusaders, who, in their long journey from western Europe, "to seek him dead in Calvary

Who lives in Heaven,"

hailed each city and castle which they approached as the Jerusalem that was to be the end of their wanderings. No; the goal is distant, and ever advancing; but the march is none the less certain.

Cultivate, then, a just moderation. Learn to reconcile order with change, stability with progress.

THE ESCAPE OF CHARLES ALBERT, KING OF
SARDINIA.

The last number of the Revue de deux Mondes has an interesting article on the subject of the late campaign in Piedmont, prepared by a person said to have been "in a position eminently favorable for judging events and men." The article is too long to copy entire.

"It was the success of the enemy on our left which decided the loss of this bloody and honorable day, and brought on the retreat of our centre, which marched in front, then of our right, which uncovered on its left by this retreating movement of the centre, saw itself for a moment exposed to be taken in flank on both sides. It was six o'clock in the evening, the enemy opened the fire of batteries posted on the position we had just abandoned. Several pieces placed on the bastions of the city, and before the Mortara gate, retarded the march of the enemy. The Duke of Genoa, having had three horses wounded under him, placed himself at the head of some battalions, and threw himself again into the melée, but the fatigued soldiers were reluctant to renew a contest which they regarded as desperate. The king, grave, depressed, but firm, turned his steps toward the city, stopping often, like a lion pursued by hunters, to look his adversaries in the face. General Chrzanowski, faithful to his duty until the last moment, never quitted the rear guard, and endeavored still to prolong the battle, even when it was hopeless. As the king was about to re-enter the city, a young artillery officer passed near him, crying out Long live the King,' then approaching the Count de Robillant, he said to him in a firm voice, 'Are you wounded, father?" "No, are you?' 'I, I have lost my hand.' The Count Robillant turned pale, but settling himself in his saddle, he

said, 'Ah, well, console yourself, my son; you have done your duty.' An hour later, and poor Charles de Robillant endured courageously the amputation of his arm. I have quoted the manly answer of Count Robillant, for it is one trait more which paints the men against whom the demagogue press comes out so bitterly every day.

"The king, already near the city, saw me pass-What news?' he asked. 'Sad, sire.' Just at that moment a bullet reached the royal escort, and several soldiers were thrown to the ground. The horses plunged, the squadron disbanded. A few minutes later, and I found myself near the king-At least,' said this unfortunate prince, 'the honor of the army is safe.' And afterward-And even death would not take me,' he added, with an expression of profound bitterness.

"At seven o'clock, the night had come, and the firing of the musketry had ceased. The king sent for M. Cadoma, the responsible minister, while he was yet on the ramparts, and pointing out to him the field of battle, directed him to go to the enemy's camp with General Cossato, and demand an armistice. At the aspect of the field of battle, that minister, pale and cast down, understood perhaps at last what a responsibility rested on himself and his colleagues. He immediately set out for the Austrian camp; but this time the conqueror chose to make all his power felt, and perhaps to assure himself of the more or less Roman stamp of the democratic ministry. His conditions were hard, and all the bearing of his triumph was shown by the attitude of the minister, with whom, moreover, he plainly refused to treat. General Cossato, who, though less lavish of warlike words than the orators of the Carignan palace, was not less ready to expose his life nobly for the honor of his flag, refused to submit thus to the law of the conqueror before he had taken the king's orders. He returned to Novara, and after having explained the result of his mission, awaited new instructions. Seeing the misfortunes to which his devotion to the cause of Italy had drawn the kingdom of his fathers, the king did not hesitate to consummate a last sacrifice. He summoned the princes, the generals, the minister Cadoma, and in a slow but firm voice, said to them these words, which deserve to be preserved in history:

"Gentlemen, I have sacrificed myself to the Italian cause: for that I have exposed my life, the lives of my children, and my throne. I have not been able to succeed. I understand that my person may be to-day the only obstacle to a peace which is henceforth necessary. I could not sign it. Since I have not been able to meet death, I will accomplish a last sacrifice for my country. I resign the crown, and abdicate in favor of my son, the Duke of Savoy.' The king then embraced affectionately each of the persons present, and retired into his chamber, after having made us a last sign of farewell, from the threshold of the door.

"An hour later, Charles Albert went away alone, without permitting any of his officers to follow him into the exile to which he had volun