exhaust the learning of the books, before I venture on my judgments.' -ii. 469.

This was in 1844, when he had already received one warning. His son, however, describes the daily course of his life at home, and in justice to the original part of this work, from which we have extracted little or nothing, we will give the passage:

'The secrets by which he was enabled to accomplish so much in so short a space of time, were systematic industry, variation of labour, and concentration of mind. He was never idle. He knew the value of those odds and ends of time which are so often thrown away. There was always something ready for the waste time to be expended upon. He varied his labour; never overworking himself on one subjectnever straining his faculties too long in one direction. "Le changement d'étude est toujours relâchement pour moi," said D'Aguesseau; and so my father found it. He never suffered himself to become nervous or excited in his studies-but the moment that one employment began to irritate him he abandoned it for another which should exercise different faculties. When he worked it was with his whole mind, and with a concentration of all his powers upon the subject in hand. Listlessness and half attention bring little to pass. What was worth doing at all he thought worth doing well.

'He arose at seven in summer and at half-past seven in winternever earlier. If breakfast was not ready, he went at once to his library and occupied the interval, whether it was five minutes or fifty, in writing. When the family assembled he was called and breakfasted with them. After breakfast he sat in the drawing-room and spent from a half to three quarters of an hour in reading the newspapers of the day. He then returned to his study, and wrote until the bell sounded for his lecture at the law-school. After lecturing for two and sometimes three hours he returned to his study, and worked until two o'clock, when he was called to dinner. To his dinner he gave an hour, and then again betook himself to his study, where in the winter time he worked as long as the daylight lasted, unless called away by a visitor, or obliged to attend a moot-court. Then he came down and joined the family-and work for the day was over. Tea came in about seven o'clock, and how lively and gay was he then, chatting over the most familiar topics of the day, or entering into deeper currents of conversation with equal ease! All of his law he left up stairs in the library-he was here the domestic man in his home. During the evening he received his friends, and he was rarely without company, but if alone he read some new publication of the day-the reviews, a novel, an English newspapersometimes corrected a proof-sheet, listened to music, or talked with the family, or what was very common, played a game of backgammon with my mother. This was the only game of the kind he liked-cards and chess he never played. In the summer afternoon he left his library towards twilight, and might always be seen by the passer-by

sitting

sitting with his family under the portico, talking, or reading some light pamphlet or newspaper, often surrounded by his friends, and making the air ring with his gay laugh. This, with the interval occupied by tea, would last until nine o'clock. At about ten he retired for the night, never varying half an hour from that time.

'His diet was exceedingly simple-not because he did not enjoy the luxuries of the table, not from asceticism or whim, but from necessity. Yet though debarred from them himself, he enjoyed the satisfaction which others derived from them with a peculiar gusto.

'He had great bodily activity, and the energy shown in everything he did, expressed itself in his motions, which were sudden and impulsive. He walked very rapidly, taking short quick steps and never sauntering. The exercise he took was almost entirely incidental to his duties, and consisted in driving to Boston to hold his court or attend to other business, and in walking to and from the law school. In the summer he used to drive about the surrounding country in the late afternoon, and sometimes to stroll for half an hour in the garden. But his real exercise was in talking. Conversation was his gymnasium: and his earnestness and volubility of speech, and vivacious gesticulation, afforded the necessary stimulant to his system. Scarcely anything more rouses the internal organs to activity or gives more movement to the blood than talking or singing. To talk was natural and necessary to my father; but he was never more out of his element than when he set forth to take a walk for exercise, and he used to join in our laugh when we jested him upon it-admitting that he could not bring his mind to it seriously. Yet he never seemed to feel the want of it; and I am fully persuaded that the constant activity of his body and mind, and especially the excitement of conversation, stood him instead of the exercise which is necessary to taciturn and phlegmatic persons.'-ii. 152.

In reviewing the life of an American jurist of so much celebrity, an English journal ought not to pass over in silence his generous admiration and ardent love of England-they break out again and again in his correspondence and elsewhere; as he watched our proceedings both in the courts of justice and Parliament with intense interest, so it was among the highest objects of his ambition to have an English reputation; that his works should be known and cited as authority by English lawyers was very dear to him; he cultivated a friendly intercourse by letter with several of the English judges; at one time he had intended to visit us, and was so fully expected that Mr. Everett had announced his arrival for a certain day and invitations had been sent for him from Lord Brougham and Lord Denman. His disappointment when com pelled to give up the voyage was extreme; he was moved even to tears when he read of the kindly and distinguished companies who were prepared to greet him: Would to God,' said he, 'that I could see Westminster Hall, and the Abbey, and the Houses of Parliament

6

Parliament—a cluster of recollections belongs to them almost unexampled in the history of the world.' In a letter to Mr. Justice Coleridge he speaks of England and America as the admirable parent and advancing child;' and, writing to Mr. Everett, he says, 'I look upon England as the great European support of the cause of free government, and law, and order, and well-regulated liberty.' These are feelings pleasant to record, honourable to him who entertains them, honourable as well as gratifying to those for whose country they are entertained. We are delighted to believe that they are not uncommon; nothing has appeared to us of late years more marked and unequivocal than the kindly and respectful feeling which the most distinguished Americans visiting this country express towards our institutions, our society, and our population; it is creditable to them that no unworthy jealousy restrains them from expressing this, and we think we may assure them that reciprocal feelings are spreading and strengthening among ourselves. England and the United States can afford to bestow love and honour on all that is lovely and honourable in each other. Great as they are, the world is wide enough for both; where there are so much activity and enterprise, such intimate intercourse, and so many points of contact, it cannot be but that questions will from time to time arise between them, and there will never be wanting selfish or inconsiderate spirits to blow the flame and make arrangement less easy; but wise governments will surely find the means of solving such questions with safety to the real dignity, advantage to the real interests of their people. In the truest sense, harmony between the two is the interest of both; it is also the condition on which depends the due discharge of their most honourable mission. For it should always be borne in mind that the common origin, the common language, the common law, and the common faith should bind both together in one common cause the advancement of the happiness of mankind and the development of well-ordered freedom and here the contest for precedence has this remarkable happiness attending it, that if it be indeed pre-eminently glorious to win the first honours of the race, to stand second is not inglorious. Sunt et sua præmia victis.

ART

ART. III.-1. British Colonial Library-East India Company's Possessions. By R. Montgomery Martin, F.R.S. 1844.

2. History of British India. By Charles Mac Farlane. 1852. 3. Modern India and its Government. By George Campbell, Bengal Civil Service. 1852.

4. Remarks on the Affairs of India. By The Friend of India. London. 1852.

E are so familiar with the connexion between Britain and

WE are so witht to overlook the wonderful political

and social phenomenon which that connexion presents. Whether we regard our Indian Empire in its origin, progress, or actual extent, there is no analogous fact in the History of the World. A region including according to Mr. Campbell, (p. 231)626,176 square miles, with a population of 101,062,916, has been gradually acquired and administered by a company of English merchants, without imposing any charge on the national treasury. Until some twenty years ago, when the commercial functions of the Company were suspended by Act of Parliament, the costs had been defrayed from the profits of the India and China trade, and from the territorial revenues of India; but since 1833 the whole charge of the connexion with this country has been borne by India.

During the period that embraces the commercial and territorial advance of the Company, England gained extensive possessions in other parts of Asia, and in America, by means of colonization and conquest, pursued and achieved through the direct agency of the Crown and Parliament. What has been the result? Within the years in question she lost by her own mismanagement provinces in North America that now form one of the greatest States in the civilized world. The maintenance, if not the acquisition, of those territories had always been attended with heavy charges on the National Treasury, and their abandonment was preceded by a long war, which has left a permanent burthen on the mother-country. This chapter of her history, it is true, affords no other case of such signal and complete disaster :-but as a whole, the upshot is, that our administration of colonial dependencies had, in spite of many warnings, continued to exhibit folly and feebleness as its main characteristic-until at last, under the severest pressure of alarm, the principle of self-government was adopted, as the only means of protecting the National Treasury from intolerable charges, and yet avoiding-or deferring-a total breach with the outlying communities of our own blood.

This comparison is no doubt favourable to the system of Indian Government, home and local. Here we find, even now,

no

no active elements of separation; there has been no strain on the hawser that keeps India in the wake of England; and, although the form and rigging of these imperial vessels be different, the conjoint progress has been steady and uninterrupted.

The commercial monopoly of the Company was necessarily opposed to the free admission of European colonists; for, advanced as the natives were, such colonists could only have been agents for importation and exportation, and the Company very naturally reserved the agencies to its own servants. The population of India was not composed of shepherds and hunters; the soil was assiduously cultivated in minute subdivisions, and the native sovereigns derived their principal revenue, as the British Government does still, from a large share of the produce. In the numerous and crowded cities were to be found bankers and merchants possessing great capital; nor were there wanting manufactures upon which that capital could be advantageously employed, whether for domestic consumption or for exportation. The only obstacle to the development of the agricultural wealth and the commerce of India was, in fact, the administrative decomposition of the native governments. There was, consequently, no necessity nor space for colonization; there was indeed a large opening for increased production and for foreign trade, and had India been free from civil war and under a settled government, there was no reason why the commercial intercourse with England should not have been as disconnected with territorial dominion as that with China has hitherto been. In process of time, the insecurity of person and property within the English factories led to the erection of forts, and the defence of forts required disciplined troops: still there was no colonization, for the reasons against it subsisted in full force; and although the commercial agency was gradually merged in the necessity of military occupation and political government, the number of Europeans employed did not exhibit an increase at all proportionate to our successive additions of territory. The Greeks under Alexander, and the Persians under Nadir Shah, successfully invaded India, but made no permanent settlements. The Tartars and Afghans, on the contrary, at periods distant from each other, not merely overran and subdued the peninsula, but established there an empire almost coextensive with that now subject to Britain. In both cases the intruders were sufficiently numerous to overawe the Hindoos, and to occupy large portions of the country, where to this day their descendants, of mixed races, constitute no inconsiderable part of the population. In a word, those Mahomedan hosts had come with the firm intention of remaining:—but the English, strange to say, have never entertained such a design.