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the other picture: for this dance, however, the four sacks of water are brought out and beat upon, and the old medicine-man comes out and leans against the big canoe, with his medicine-pipe in his hand, and cries. The principal actors in this scene are eight men dancing the buffalo dance, with the skins of buffalo on them, and a bunch of green willows on their backs. There are many other figures whose offices are very curious and interesting, but which must be left for my Lectures, or notes, to describe. The black figure on the left they call O-kee-hee-de (the evil spirit), who enters the village from the prairie, alarming the women, who cry for assistance, and are relieved by the old medicine-man, and the evil spirit is at length disarmed of his lance, which is broken by the women, and he is driven by them in disgrace out of the village. The whole nation are present on this occasion, as spectators and actors in these strange scenes.'
This "Big Canoe," which makes such a conspicuous figure in the above, is thus described, in the note in the Catalogue to the picture of the Mandan Village.
"In the middle of the village is an open area of 150 feet in diameter, in which their public games and festivals are held. In the centre of that is their big canoe,' a curb made of planks, which is an object of religious veneration. Over the Medicine (or mystery) Lodge are seen hanging, on the tops of poles, several sacrifices to the Great Spirit, of blue and black cloths, which have been bought at great prices, and there left to hang and decay."
A stout believer in the Jewish origin of the North American Indians would at once trace a connexion between this "big canoe" and the ark of the Israelites, which occupied the centre of their camp when in the wilderness. But, alas, the Mandans, as we have already mentioned, have been all swept away!
THE USEFUL FAMILY.
ON removing, some time ago, to a new quarter of the town, where I was an entire stranger, one of my first businesses was to look out for a respectable grocer, with whom we might deal for family necessaries. With this object in view, I, one day, shortly after our settlement in our new domicile, sallied out on an exploratory expedition, through our own and some of the adjoining streets, in order, in the first place, to see what like the general run of shops in our neighbourhood were. The result of this tour was to narrow the matter of selection to three shops of respectable appearance; which of these, however, I should eventually patronise, I did not at the moment determine, as I always like to do things deliberately. This deliberation, then, rendered another tour of observation necessary.
of tea, a proportionable quantity of sugar, and several other little odds and ends, for which I had a commission from my wife. We found the articles excellent, our worthy, jolly groceress civil and obliging; and all, therefore, so far as this went, was right.
The grocer, however, although a most convenient sort of personage, cannot supply all the wants of a family; there is another, still more essential, inasmuch as he is necessary not only to our comfort, but almost to our existence-the baker. We still wanted a baker; having hitherto bought our bread in a straggling sort of way. What we wanted, then, was a regular baker; and not knowing well where to look for one, we applied to our obliging groceress. The worthy woman seemed delighted with the inquiry -we wondered why; she thus solved the mystery. "Why, sir," she said, "my son's a baker: his shop is just a little further on. He will be very happy to supply you, and I undertake to warrant his giving you every satisfaction."
Well pleased to find that our little expenditure would-at least so far as the addition of bread went-be still kept in the family, we proceeded forthwith to the shop of the baker. It was a very respectable-looking one, and the baker himself a civil, obliging fellow; so we settled matters with him on the instant.
It was, I think, somewhere about three weeks after this, that our servant-girl brought, along with a quantity of butter for which she had been sent to Mrs. Aikenside's-the name, by the way, of our worthy groceress-a very handsome card, which ran thus:
"Miss Jane Aikenside begs to intimate to her friends and the public, that she has begun business in the millinery and dressmaking line, and that every care and attention will be bestowed in the execution of all orders with which she may be favoured." At the bottom of the card-" Availing herself of this opportunity, Miss Mary Aikenside takes the liberty of announcing, that she continues to instruct young ladies in music, on the terms formerly advertised, namely, two guineas per quarter, of three lessons per week." "who are they,
"Aikenside!" said I, on perusing the card; these Misses Aikenside ?"
"Relations of our grocer's, I dare say," said my wife. We inquired, and found they were her daughters.
"Very fortunate," said my wife ; "I was just at a loss where I should go with the girls' new frocks and any own gown. We can't do better than give them to Mrs. Aikenside's daughters."
I thought so too, and, moreover, said so; but, being a matter not within my province, I interfered no further in it. My wife, however, lost no time in calling on Miss Aikenside, who carried on her business in her mother's house, which was immediately over the shop. The interview was satisfactory to both parties. My wife was much pleased with both the appearance and manners of Miss Aikenside, and with the specimens of work which she subThe children's frocks and the gown were, therefore, immediately put into her hands. The work was well done; my wife said she had not seen more accurate fits for a long time; so, from this date, Miss Aikenside got all our millinery to do.
On this second excursion, seeing nothing, even after a very careful survey, in the externals of either of the three shops to decide my final choice, I resolved, in the conceit of a pretty ready appreciation of character, on being guided by the result of a glance at the general personal appearances of the respective shopkeepers.mitted. On pretence, then, of examining a certain box of Turkey figs that lay in the window of one of the shops in question, I took a furtive peep of the gentleman behind the counter. I didn't like his looks at all; he was a thin, starved, hungry-looking fellow, with a long, sharp, red nose, and, I thought, altogether, a sort of person likely to do a little business in the short-weight way with those who dealt with him. I thought, too, from the glance I took of his head, that there was a deficiency in his bump of conscientiousness. Him, therefore, I struck off the list, and proceeded to the
This man was, in all personal respects, the very opposite of the other; he was a fat, gruff, savage-looking monster, from whom I did not think much civility was to be expected; nor did I like the act in which I found him, when I peeped through the window-this was throwing a loaded salt basket at the head of his apprentice. Probably it was deserved, but I did not like the choler it exhibited -so I passed on to the third. Here was a jolly, pleasant, matronly-looking woman for shopkeeper. I was taken with her appearance, so in I popped, and we soon came to an understand ing. opened negotiations by the purchase of a couple of pounds
The intercourse which this brought on between the female members of the two families afforded my wife and daughters an opportunity of hearing Miss Mary Aikenside's performances on the piano-for she, too, resided with her mother, with which they were all delighted; she was, they said, an exquisite performer; my wife adding, that as it was now full time that our two eldest girls had begun music (of which, indeed, we had been thinking for some time previously), we might just send them at once to Miss Aikenside. I offered no objection, but, on the contrary, was very glad that we could yet further patronise the very respectable family whose services we had already found so useful; so to Miss Mary Aikenside our two daughters were immediately sent, to learn music; and very rapid progress they subsequently made under her tuition.
It was only now-that is, after my two girls had begun music with Miss Aikenside-that I began to perceive the oddity of the circumstance of having so many of our wants supplied by one
family; for I may as well add, the baker, who was unmarried, also lived with his mother. But this was an oddity to be rendered yet more remarkable.
"Mrs. Aikenside, my good lady," said I, on dropping one day into the shop," you were good enough, besides furnishing us with what you dealt in yourself, to tell us where we could be supplied with what you did not deal in. You told us where to find a baker; now, can you tell us where we shall find a shoemaker-a respectable shoemaker ?"
Mrs. Aikenside laughed. "My husband, sir," she said, "is a shoemaker, and will be much obliged to you for any employment you may be pleased to put in his way."
I now laughed too; for the idea was becoming, I thought, exceedingly amusing. "A shoemaker, is he?" said I; "that's odd, but fortunate too. Where is his shop? where does he work?"
"Oh, he has no shop, sir; shop-rents are so high. He works up-stairs in the house; he has a small room set apart for the purpose. Will you walk up and see him, sir, if you please?" she added, pointing to an inside stair, which conducted from the shop to the story above.
I did so; and found Mr. Aikenside, a very respectable-looking man, hard at work in the midst of two or three journeymen and apprentices. He had seen me several times in the shop before, so he knew me.
“Mr. Aikenside,” said I, "I want a little work done in your way."
"Most happy to serve you, sir," said Mr. Aikenside.
"It is but a small matter, though-hardly worth your attention,
I doubt; but better things will probably follow."
"Don't matter what it is, sir-don't matter how trifling. Glad and ready to do anything in my way, however small; always thankful for employment."
"Then, sir, we shall deal," said I. "There's a parcel of my youngsters' shoes at home that stand in need of repairing." "Send them over, sir, and they shall be done to your satisfaction; or I'll send one of these lads for them directly."
Here was an active, prompt, thorough-going tradesman thenone who seemed to know what he was about, and who, I had no doubt, would do his work well; just, in short, such a man as I wanted.
I was altogether much pleased with the man, and could not help laughingly remarking to him the oddity of my finding so many of the wants of life supplied by one family. "There," said I, "is the grocer, the baker, the milliner, the teacher of music, and the shoemaker, all in one family-all living together."
Ay, but you have forgot one-there's another still to add," said Mr. Aikenside, appreciating the humour of the thing. "We can furnish you with a tailor, too; and as good a hand, I will say it, though he be my own son, as any in town, be the other who he inay."
Bless my soul, a tailor too!" said I; "where is this to end? Pray, where does he hang out?"
"Why, sir, in the next room ;" and he went to the door, and called out, "Jim, Jim, I say, come here a moment."
Jim came-a smart, and, although in the loose deshabille of his calling, genteel-looking lad.
"Here," continued Mr. Aikenside, addressing his son-"here is a gentleman, who doesn't say he wants anything in your way just now, but who may, probably, do so by and by."
Jim bowed politely, and not ungracefully, and saying he would be proud of any little share of my employment which I should think fit to afford him, put a handsomely embossed card into my hand, with his name and other particulars relative to his business. The children's shoes were sent to the father; they were promptly and well done, and the consequence was, that we henceforth employed him both to make and mend for us.
The experiment of a suit for one of my boys was soon after made of the son's skill as a workman; it was satisfactory-more than
satisfactory. He, therefore, was instantly dubbed our tailor, and from this time given all our work, both old and new.
So, good reader, there we are. This single family of the Aikensides, one way and another, get at least three-fourths of our entire income; and right welcome are they to it, for they give full and fair value in return.
THE wretched post of usher to an academy was at one time his refuge from actual starving. Unquestionably, his description was founded on personal recollection where he says, "I was up early and late; I was browbeat by the master, hated for my ugly face by the mistress, worried by the boys within, and never permitted to stir out to seek civility abroad." This state of slavery he underwent at Peckham Academy, and had such bitter recollection thereof as to be offended at the slightest allusion to it. An acquaintance happening to use the proverbial phrase, "Oh, that is all holiday at Peckham," Goldsmith reddened, and asked if he meant to affront him. From this miserable condition he escaped with difficulty to that of journeyman, or rather shop-porter, to a chemist in Fish-street-hill; in whose service he was recognised by Dr. Sleigh, his countryman and fellow-student at Edinburgh, who, to his eternal honour, relieved Oliver Goldsmith from this state of slavish degradation. The person and features of Dr. Goldsmith were rather unfavourable: he was a short, stout man, with a round face much marked with the small-pox, and a low forehead, which is represented as projecting in a singular manner. Yet these ordinary features were marked by a strong expression of reflection and of observation.-Sir Walter Scott.
DERBY FOOT-BALL, ON SHROVE-TUESDAY.
"And when it is over, we 'll drink a blithe measure
ONE of the most popular amusements of Derbyshire, on Shrove Tuesday, is the athletic game of foot-ball; a game which lays fast hold of the affections of the Peakrill, and is followed with enthusiasm by every man who can pronounce the Shibboleth of his country, the name of Darran.
As played in the northern, and in fact in the greater, part of Derbyshire, foot-ball resembles the pastime of the same name in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and the adjoining counties; that is, two sides are formed of the players, who adjourn to some large open field, mark out the distance of the goals of the respective parties, and producing a leather ball, filled up plump and rendered elastic by an inflated bladder, each player endeavours, by kicking it with his foot, to impel it to the goal of his own party, which is as obstinately resisted by the players of the other side, till, after a succession of kicks and bruises, of tugs, of wrestlings, and of falls, frequently lasting for many hours, one of the contending parties drives the ball through the opening, and becomes the victor of the day. This is a slight sketch of the common game of foot-ball, as it is most generally played; but in Derby (the county-town), and in Ashbourne (thirteen miles distant), this game assumes a very different character.
The inhabitants of Derby are born foot-ball players;—the game seems interwoven with their existence; they have drunk it with their mothers' milk, and it animates them through their lives. Enthusiasm is but a cold word for their attachment to it; on Shrove Tuesday it is a passion irresistible, which bears down before it every obstacle, and defies the law, the magistracy, the police. Nor is it confined alone to the lower classes-the gentry, the respectable tradesmen, have all, in some part of their lives, been foot-ball players; and they encourage it now by their countenance view with pleasure the exertions of their successors. and their subscriptions; they remember their own feats, and they Young and old, matrons and maids, are alike transported with its delights, and "All Saints'" and "St. Peter's" are the war-cries of the day.
The game is a contest betwixt two of the five parishes of Derby,
St. Peter's and All Saints'; the former joined by St. Werburgh's and St. Michael's, the latter by the remaining parish of St. Alkmund; and both reinforced by volunteers from various villages in the surrounding country. All Saints' has its goal at an extremity of the town nearly a mile from the market-place, in the dam of the Nunnery Mill; St. Peter's at another extremity at nearly the same distance, on the precise spot of ground where, before the introduction of the New Drop, formerly stood the gallows; both, some twenty years ago, completely in the country, but now considerably within the boundaries of the new-built town. The ball, an enormous sphere of leather, stuffed with shavings, is droppednone knows from whence-in the market-place, exactly as the town-hall clock strikes two, amidst an assembly of many thousands, so closely wedged together as scarcely to admit of any locomotion. The principal players form a body in the centre of the crowd, and are distinguishable by being stripped to their shirts, and, instead of wearing hats or caps, having in general their heads bound round with handkerchiefs of various colours; but as no particular badge is worn, a stranger finds it difficult, if not impossible, to form a satisfactory idea of the conflicting parties; a Derby eye alone can point out a St. Peter's or an All Saints'
The ball, on being let fall, is not struck at or kicked with the foot, but is, as soon as possible, picked up by one of the players, who, if he can, passes it immediately to his associates; this, however, is opposed by his adversaries, who endeavour to take the ball away. And now commences the interest of the game; one party resolves to keep possession, the other to become master of the prize; their hands are elevated above their heads, their palms open towards the centre, ready to receive the ball in its passage; and the shouts of "St. Peter's!" "All Saints'!" the clapping of hands, the cheers, the waving of handkerchiefs and encouraging motions from the upper windows and roofs of the surrounding houses, is altogether such a display of interest and enthusiasm as is rarely witnessed, even at a horse-race; the excitement of an election, even at the closing of the poll, is apathy compared to it; the existence of the town might be depending on the issue of the
It should have been premised, that on this afternoon all business is at a stand, and every shop shut up, and the lower windows of every house in those streets where there is a probability of the ball being taken are all closed; entrance-gates are fastened, gardens barricadoed, and every method taken to secure property; for football is lawless, and its partisans acknowledge no barrier which cannot resist their united force! Houses become public roads when they offer a nearer way to meet the ball; and no one grumbles, no one scolds! Each feels an interest in the game, and each gives every assistance to his favourite parish.
The intent is to convey the ball, spite of all obstructions, to one of the goals; walls must be scaled, fences removed, gates broken down, rivers forded or swum across-everything must give way to this important point! It is a complete trial of strength in each party-the one to make way, the other to prevent it; every nerve is strained to the utmost, every exertion made to facilitate or retard progression. The pressure is immense, but systematic; Derby men, from long experience, well knowing how to improve human power, either in resisting or aiding the density of a concentrated crowd.
After a struggle of perhaps an hour, the ball is carried or forced from the market-place, but not before many of the antagonists are reduced to all but a state of perfect nudity, and some put hors de combat, by the dislocation of a limb, the breaking of a bone, or the trampling of the crowd. It is now forced on the street, till coming to St. Peter's bridge, it is thrown over the parapet into the Martin-brook, where, in expectation of such an occurrence, a swarm of players from both the contending parties are standing breast-high in the water, in readiness to seize it. A Peter's man has got it! See! he swims with it under the arch, and carries it along the culvert, pursued by a host of opponents, chin-deep in water, towards the Derwent! Alas, he cannot reach it! The opposing party have met him at the outlet, have driven the ball into the rolling-mill yard, have closed the gates upon their adversaries, and begin to rejoice in the prospect of a speedy victory. These hopes, however, are fallacious! St. Peter's men scale the walls, force the gates off their ponderous hinges, and dripping with the half-frozen water from the culvert, renew the contest in the inclosed court. These strive to gain the river, those to take the ball back into the town. It is now on an islet, guarded by two
*This brook is now covered by a new culvert, and forms a wide street,
Peter's men, divested of every article of clothing, but so wrapped up in their devotion to the game as to be perfectly unconscious of their appearance and situation; while two others, nearly naked, lie upon and secure it, till an opportunity offers for removing it with safety. It is again in the water; another bridge is dived under, and the poor ball, with two or three scores of its followers, is now in the middle of the Derwent '
Thus is the contest kept up, till darkness puts a period to the struggle; the players become exhausted, the opposition more and more feeble; reinforcements arrive, the contenders assume new life, the game recommences, and the ball is finally taken to the goal. St. Peter's, this year, is the winning party, and the churchbells announce the conquest. He who had the honour of last delivering the ball is the champion of the night, and, mounted on the shoulders of two of his friends, with another before him carrying the ball, he is borne in procession from house to house, soliciting a something from every inmate for a poor St. Peter's lad!" Happy would it be for the town if this trial of skill and strength could be carried on without accidents, but life and limb are too often in jeopardy in every annual encounter; yet so infatuated are the players, that a life lost or a limb fractured is passed by almost unnoticed. On Shrove-Tuesday, 1835, one young man was taken out of the crowd to the surgeon's, with a dislocated shoulder; it was with great exertion, and on his part with the most intense suffering, replaced, and he resumed his play as if nothing had occurred. Another was nearly trampled to death; and numbers, by suddenly plunging, when violently heated, into the almost frozen river, on one of the roughest and coldest of winter-days, caught such colds as will leave their visible effects for every succeeding year of life.
Such is the Derby foot-ball play! It is much censured, and it is also as highly commended. The title by which it is held can only he prescription, and prescription can never legalise a riot. Be this as it may, it is still practised, without any effectual interference of the municipal authorities to put it down; in fact, every member of the borough, from his worship the mayor to the lowest burgess, is or has been a foot-ball player; and it would seem illnatured to prohibit the present generation what in bygone years has afforded them a high gratification.
Of the origin of this singular pastime we can do nothing more than form conjectures. No one can remember its commencement; it has been the amusement of our ancestors in those times of which we have no account. It is undoubtedly the remains of one of those hardy sports which formed the solace of our early progenitors, and improved their strength, their agility and address; and this may be said in its favour, that even at the present day it is entered into without mercenary motives, and carried on without any quarrelthe sole object being the honour of beating the competitor, and carrying away the ball. Something of the kind was formerly practised in the city of Chester, by the shoemakers and drapers; but in 1540 it was abolished, and a foot-race on the Roodee, on every succeeding Shrove-Tuesday, established in its stead.
The game to which this foot-ball makes the nearest approach is that formerly played in Wales, under the name of Knappan; but knappan seems to have been a much more noble amusementone part of the players being mounted on fleet and active horses, and having for the theatre of contention an extensive open country.
This foot-ball is not confined to Shrove-Tuesday alone; it is also played on the following day, but generally by a younger set, the aspirants for future fame; and at Ashbourne the same rule is observed, the contending parties, as at Derby, being the representatives of two particular parishes.
THE principle of the permanence of the force of communicated motion, so far as any cause within the moving body itself is concerned-that is, of its absolute permanence-except in so far as it is counteracted by some external and opposite force, whilst it lies at the very foundation of all just views of the theory, is sufficiently shown, by many examples, to be a most important element in the practice of mechanics. What is it, in fact, but this which constitutes the giant force of impact, and makes the hammer a weapon more powerful than any other-irresistible-in moulding and submitting the various objects around him to the uses and purposes of man? There is no machine comparable to the hammer. The force of heat, indeed, insinua.es itself between the pores and interstices of bodies, and operating there separately
upon their particles, breaks them up in detail; but the hammer encounters the accumulated force of their cohesion and overcomes it. The hardest rocks and the most unyielding metals submit to it. If man reigns over inanimate matter, shapes out the face of the earth to his use or to his humour, and puts the impress of his skill and his labour upon the whole face of nature, it is chiefly with the aid which this mighty force of impact gives him. It is this that clears away for him the trees of the forest-that shapes for him the materials of his dwelling-that beats out for him the instruments of tillage-that digs and hoes up the earth-that, after having cut for him his corn, threshes it, and crushes it into flour that tames for him his cattle, shapes and binds together his wagons and carts, and makes his roads: in short, there is no use of society for which this force of impact does not labour, and there is no operation of it which does not manifest this tendency of communicated force of motion to permanence. Were there no tendency to permanence in the force of motion which his hammer acquires in its descent, its power on the substance which the artificer seeks to shape out would only be the same as though he were to lay it gently down upon it; its impact would be no greater force than the pressure of its weight. So far, however, is this from being the case, that, as it is well known to the workman, a slight blow from the lightest hammer is sufficient to abrade a surface, which the direct pressure of a ton weight would not make to yield. There is no force in nature comparable to that of impact.-Moseley's Illustrations of Science.
HUNGARY AND TRANSYLVANIA *.
By referring to the map of Europe, the reader will better understand the importance and value of the two volumes whose title we have given below, and be led to take an interest in their subject. It is, indeed, somewhat humiliating that we, in Britain, know so little about a portion of Europe whose past history, confused as it may be, is frequently of the most exciting nature, and whose present condition and prospects are of great importance to the politician, the merchant, and all who care about the progress and improvement of their fellow-men. "Our ignorance," says Mr. Paget, "of Hungary is bitterly complained of by the Hungarians. You are more interested in England about the cause of
the South Sea Islands than about us Protestant constitutional
Hungarians; you know more of the negroes in the interior of Africa than you do of a nation in the East of Europe.' 'This is undoubtedly true, but how can we help it?' was my answer, 'Neither your newspapers nor those of Germany dare give us any information on your politics; for if they do, they know that their Austrian circulation is lost, as they are stopped at the frontiers; and besides the difficulties of travelling in the country, it is by no means easy to procure a passport at Vienna for that purpose.' We both regretted that, between two nations who had each so much that the other required, such mutual ignorance should prevail, and we could only hope that steam-navigation would break
down the barrier which had hitherto been found insurmountable."
Contrast our ignorance of Hungary with the interest felt about us in the minds of intelligent Hungarians.
"Bulwer's England and the English' is known everywhere, and Pückler Muskau has helped to spread an acquaintance with our manners. For politics, the Allgemeine Zeitung is the authority. It is wonderful how eagerly every one asks for information about our parliament; and I could not help thinking that if some of the honourable members who occasionally make such melancholy exhibitions there, could guess how far and wide their reputation is spread, they would sometimes think twice before they speak. Many seemed to think that the House of Commons must needs be the favourite resort of every one; and I have heard young men declare, that they would toil and slave a life-long for the pleasure of once seeing, and hearing the debates of that house. Not a single great name in either chamber but was familiar to our host. How did Lord Grey look? What would the Duke of Wellington do? How could Peel hold with the ultra-Tories? Was O'Connell an honest man? Did Stanley really believe all he talked about church property?
"The name of O'Connell, throughout all Hungary, we found a Hungary and Transylvania; with Remarks on their Condition, Social, Political and Economical. By John Paget, Esq. With numerous illustrations from sketches by Mr. Hering. London, John Murray. 1839.
watchword among the liberal Catholics, and many were the questions we were asked about his eloquence, talent, and appearance. He seems to be considered a living testimony that Catholicism and even ultra-liberalism are by no means inconsistent." Nay, more, the very Jews in Hungary-one, at all events-know something about us.
before the little Juden knipe,'-for by this contemptuous epithet, "While we were waiting," says Mr. Paget, "for fresh horses answering to 'Jew's pot-house,' Stephan always designated an inn kept by a Jew, at the station next Tyerhova, one of the tribe of rocks, only a quarter of an hour from the village. As we followed Israel came up and asked us if we would like to see some curious from, what we were doing, and whither we were going, so common him to the spot, he asked those questions as to where we came in most countries except our own, where they are avoided, as though every one was doing something of which he was ashamed, and which he desired to conceal. On hearing that we were English, he asked very earnestly if one Walter Scott was yet living, and expressed the greatest regret when he learnt his death. Surprised at such a sentiment from such a man, and suspecting some mistake, I inquired what he knew of Scott; when he pulled from his pocket a well-thumbed German translation of Ivanhoe,-the read that and many others of his works with great pleasure. I do very romance of persecuted Judaism, and assured me he had not know that I ever felt more strongly the universal power of genius than when I found the bard of Scotland worshipped by a poor Jew in the mountains of Hungary."
Hungary, then, is a portion of that extensive country which, in past history, has been the "border" or "debateable land" of Europe; the nursery of swarms of hardy barbarians who tried the arms and skill of the most active of Roman emperors, and more ble in the history of the great struggle between Christianity and than once made imperial Rome tremble; and which is memora Mohammedanism, during that period when the Turkish power, in its strength, seemed destined to subvert Europe. This extent of country may be considered as lying between Turkey, Austria proper, Russia and Poland, and as stretching from the Adriatic to the Black Sea. It belongs to Turkey, Russia, and Austria; the latter empire containing Hungary, and Transylvania, the subjects of the volumes before us. The Danube, on its way to the Black Sea, flows through the heart of Hungary, thus giving a rich and fertile country the benefits which may be derived from the use of a noble river, and on which steam is now in active operation.
Politically considered, Hungary stands somewhat in the same relation to the arbitrary power of Austria, that Ireland did to Britain before the passing of the Catholic Emancipation Act. It was finally delivered from the Turkish yoke about the beginning of the eighteenth century; but though united to Austria, it still considers itself as an independent kingdom, having a constitution which the Hungarians regard with jealous attachment, and laws and privileges, the operation of which has been, and still continue, a source of great trouble and offence to the Austrian court. "The crown of St. Stephen" is preserved with religious care. veneration the Hungarians regard this crown as an emblem of almost impossible for a foreigner to conceive with how deep a national sovereignty, and its removal was considered, as indeed it state of an Austrian province. Pope Sylvester II. sent the crown was intended, to be a mark of the reduction of Hungary to the establishment of Christianity in the country, whence it has reto Stephen, first King of Hungary, in the year 1000, on the ceived the title of Holy and Apostolic Crown.' It has at various times been seized by usurpers to the throne, been hidden for years, and more proudly regarded than ever. removed to foreign countries, but always eventually brought back, castle of Buda; two of the highest nobles of the land are appointed It is now placed in the its guardians; and it is watched and guarded with even more care than the holiest of relics. The reign of Joseph II. is, by Hungarians, regarded as a kind of interregnum, because he never placed this crown on his head.
"From the æra of the conquest of the country the Hungarian nobles claim to date the origin of their rights and privileges; but the legal act by which they were secured, and by the terms of which the present monarch at his coronation swore to maintain them, was executed in 1222.
"The English reader can scarcely fail to be struck by the
singular coincidence of two countries, so far apart as England and Hungary, having obtained, within seven years of each other, the English in 1215, the Hungarians in 1222,-through the weakness of their monarchs, the great charters of their liberties. Nor, if he looks a little further, will he be less surprised to find that at that time the Hungarians were equal to, if not before us, in enlightened notions of personal freedom, of civil right, and of political privilege. It would be out of our province to investigate the causes which have produced the different results which we observe at the present moment; but I suspect a fair estimate of them would give us little cause for the indulgence of national vanity. The accident of geographical position has often worked mighty results in our favour and against the Hungarians."
Having thus got a glimpse of Hungary, we may now accompany Mr. Paget from Vienna.
"It was about the middle of June 1835, that we shook the dust of Vienna from our feet, and bent our steps towards the confines of Hungary. Full of the hope of adventure, with which the idea of entering a country familiar only in history or romance fills even older heads than ours, we had been for some days impatient at the dull delays of the Austrian police, and were commensurately rejoiced at their termination, and the actual commencement of our journey.
"The reader would certainly laugh, as I have often done since, did I tell him one half the foolish tales the good Viennese told us of the country we were about to visit. No roads! no inns! no police! we must sleep on the ground, eat where we could, and be ready to defend our purses and our lives at every moment! In full credence of these reports, we provided ourselves most plentifully with arms, which were carefully loaded, and placed ready for immediate use; for as we heard that nothing but fighting would carry us through, we determined to put the best face we could on the matter. It may, however, ease the reader's mind to know that no occasion to shoot anything more formidable than a partridge or a hare ever presented itself; and that we finished our journey with the full conviction that travelling in Hungary was just as safe as travelling in England.
Protestants, the Lutherans and Calvinists, and the members of the Greek church, both united and non-united, are numerous, and enjoy nearly the same rights as the Catholics. The Jews are tolerated on the payment of a tax, but cannot exercise any political functions."
The Danube enters Hungary at Presburg; and in this city the sittings of the Diet-the Hungarian Parliament--are held, on account of its proximity to Vienna. But the Hungarians are anxious for its sittings being held in Pest, or rather Buda-Pest; for these two cities, lying opposite each other, on both sides of the Danube, must be considered as one city, the capital of Hungary. Let us therefore descend the river, and endeavour to "discover it, like that "learned countryman of ours," of whom Mr. Paget so pleasantly tells us.
"I believe," says he, "I must say something as to the whereabouts of the place, more especially as it was only this spring that a learned countryman of ours, whom spleen or the fidgets had driven so far from his usual haunts about Westminster Hall, declared with open eyes and gaping mouth that he had discovered Pest! Here was a city, Buda-Pest, of more than one hundred thousand inhabitants, of which this learned gentlemen was, up to the time of his visit, entirely ignorant.
"For one hundred and forty-five years did the Turks remain masters of Buda: yet almost the only evidences of their former dominion are some baths near the Danube, and the tomb of a saint; the former of which are still used by the Christians, and the latter is sometimes visited by a pious Moslem pilgrim. The Turkish baths, which are supplied by natural sulphur-springs, are smallvaulted rooms, with steps leading down to the bottom, along which the bathers lie at different depths. If I might judge from my feelings merely, I should say that the steam which arises from these springs is much hotter than the water itself; for, though it was quite painful to support the heat of the steam, the water appeared only moderately warm.
It is not easy to imagine a more perfect contrast than is presented by the environs of Pest and Buda: the one, a bare sandy "Why or wherefore, I know not, but nothing can exceed the plain; the other, hill and valley, beautifully varied with rock and horror with which a true Austrian regards both Hungary and its wood. Hitherto this romantic neighbourhood has been sadly inhabitants. I have sometimes suspected that the bugbear with neglected: but as the taste for the picturesque is extended, and which a Vienna mother frightens her squaller to sleep, must be an the wealthy citizens of Pest begin to desire the imaginary importHungarian bugbear; for in no other way can I account for the ance conferred by landed possessions, and the real luxury of inbred and absurd fear which they entertain for such near neigh-country-houses, the hills of Buda will be as well covered with bours. It is true, the Hungarians do sometimes talk about liberty, suburban villas and mimic castles as Richmond or Hampstead. constitutional rights, and other such terrible things, to which no At present, the taste for the picturesque is, perhaps, as little felt well-disposed ears should ever be open, and to which the ears of in Hungary as in almost any country in Europe. The negligence the Viennese are religiously closed. Worthy people! How satis- with which the position of a house is commonly chosen, the fied must the old emperor, der gute Franzel, have been with you! absence of gardens and parks, or, if present, the bad taste with When a certain professor once remonstrated with him on the which they are laid out, and the carelessness with which they are censorship of the press, and represented it as the certain means of checking the genius of his people, he was answered, I don't want kept, are strong evidence of this deficiency. learned subjects-I want good subjects.' As regards the first part of his wish no man had more reason to be contented than the
late Emperor of Austria; for a more unintellectual, eating and drinking, dancing and music-loving people do not exist, than the good people of Vienna. As long as they can eat gebackene Hendel at the Sperl, or dance in the Augarten, and listen to the immortal Strauss, as he stamps and fiddles before the best waltz-band in Europe, so long will they willingly close their ears to all such wicked discourses; and, despite the speculations of philosophers or the harangues of patriots, nothing will ever induce them to desire a change.
"The reader must not imagine that he is about to visit one people on entering Hungary, but rather a collection of many races, united by geographical position, and other circumstances, into one nation, but which still preserve all their original peculiarities of language, dress, religion, and The Magyars, or Hungarians proper, the dominant race, and to whom the land may be said to belong, do not amount to more than three millions and a half out of the ten millions at which the whole population is estimated. The Sclavacks may be reckoned at two millions; other members of the Sclavish race, but differing in religion and dialect, at two and a half; the rest of the population, being made up of Wallacks, Jews, Germans, Gipsies, &c. There is scarcely less difference of religion than of origin in this motley population. The Catholics are predominant, as well in number as in power; but the two sects of * It may be as well to remark at once, that the word Magyar should be pronounced Möd-yor.
"The stillness of Buda contrasts very strongly with the active bustle of Pest. Buda is the residence of the bureaucracy of Hungary, and there is always about these gentry a certain sedateness of air, and not unfrequently a pompous vacancy of expression which has nothing analogous to the haughty look of the rich noble, or the quick glance of the enterprising merchant of Pest; and Buda seems to have caught the complexion of its inhabitants. The royal palace, occupied by the Palatine, the residence of the comfamilies, give an air of dignity, but not of life, to the town: and mander of the garrison, and the houses of two or three great as we walked round the ramparts, and admired its beautiful position, it was quite a relief that the establishment of a permanent bridge would soon restore to Buda its share of life and prosperity, of which its young and lusty rival seemed in danger of robbing it entirely.
"The railroad from Vienna through Raab to Buda, not dreamed of at the time of our visit, though now in active preparation, will do much to raise the importance of Buda still higher. Since 1836 no less than four or five lines of railroad traversing Hungary in every direction have been proposed, and some of them actually undertaken. The success of steam navigation has given a stimulus to enterprise and speculation in Hungary, from which the country will eventually reap a golden harvest.
"One hundred and fifty years ago, Pest, now so beautiful and flourishing, was a mere heap of ruins; its mud walls broken down, its houses destroyed, and its few inhabitants flying from the desolation around them. At that time, too, a Turkish Pasha sat in the fortress of Buda, and nearly half of Hungary was subject to his sway. In one hundred and fifty years, then, has this place