ciety-wherein, besides this, you may live three times as cheap as in Germany, and with a revenue of ten thousand francs, one may sport an equipage and maintain a respectable country establishment; where all the refinements of luxury and all the delicacies of the table are at command; where Spain, Provence, and the ocean, reach you the handthe land of Henry the Fourth-the land of romantic beauty, of truffles and Bordeaux wine, of snipes and of trout, of terrines de Nérac, and pâtés de Toulouse. O to this land would I wend with thee, my beloved!"

Hoppel-poppel or the heart!-Mignon's song and pâtés de Toulouse! This is certainly a strange mixture, and yet we have no doubt that this rhapsody was intended to be the most sublime passage in the "Penultimate World-walk;" and that as such many a German Lucy and Julia will ecstatically receive it. In our humble judgment, it can be likened to nothing so fitly as to a dish of whisked cream, or a plate of soaped water, blown up into bubbles by a child.

The title of the present work," Penultimate World-Tour," indicates that the ultimate tour is yet to come. The princely author, indeed, (after having served Lord Brougham with the Harvey sauce and mustard, as above at length narrated,) proceeded straightway to Africa, where (unless he has made a second descent into Hades, not figuratively) we believe he is at this present moment.* From thence he travels onward, taking of course his elegant curricle" along with him, to America; and here, in the new world, will be concocted that "ultimate tour of Semilasso" for which the German publishers and public are at present so impatiently waiting. Of this threatened "LETZTER Weltgang," we devoutly say with Lord Byron,

66

"Tours of such princes, may they be the last!"

for, unless the forthcoming volumes be more edifying than the present, we shall think ourselves justified in passing them over without any further notice. In the mean time, that the Prince may have no reason to complain of our having given to the English public garbled extracts from his penultimate tour, we transcribe his expedition to the celebrated amphitheatre of Gavarny at full length, in which the discerning reader will have occasion to remark the truth of an observation already made by us in reference to a certain genus of travelling sketches now fashionable in Germany-that the traveller is generally the most important figure in

the sketch.

"Gavarny, 19th Nov. 1834. "With sun-rise-that is to say, in this locality at ten o'clock-I

*The last account of the author that we have seen left him at Constantinople.EDITOR.

found myself mounted on my good steed, and on the road to the famous amphitheatre of Gavarny. The road is most picturesque. For the first half hour we ride uninterruptedly along the course of the Gave, whose waters are enclosed on both sides by overhanging rocks, and rush fearfully down 600 or 800 feet beneath the path of the traveller. The way is extremely narrow, and yet is not provided with any sort of fence or parapet. The guide generally acts as a living garde fou-to-day, however, I performed both offices, du fou comme du guide, and felt an inexpressible pleasure in galloping along the brink of the precipice upon my trusty steed, and looking down on the milk-white Gave, foaming beneath me. Habit takes away the edge from danger, and apprehension is soon changed into a reckless carelessness, which ever and anon demands an offering. It is only a very few years since a luckless traveller was precipitated from this very road 300 feet into the rocky bed of the Gave. On this occasion the prior of Gavarny, who happened to be on the spot, gave a beautiful example of true Christian feeling. He let himself down, at the great risk of his life, by means of ropes, and found the unfortunate traveller still breathing and sufficiently sensible to receive the consolations of religion from the pious father, and die comforted in his arms.

"The bump of caution, with which I am largely endowed, happily prevents me from running such risks; for, though I often venture, I never venture without consideration. At the same time, this bump, however useless it may be, is to us anxious mortals the mother of many sorrows. 'Cursed caution!' said the Corsair Trelawny, "to what purpose art thou, unless to turn joy into anxiety! But such is our lot. Every thing in this world has an element of evil to counterbalance the good.'

"After a hundred charming prospects of all sorts of rocks strangely thrown together, clad with the most luxuriant vegetation, variegated here and there with some not inconsiderable waterfalls, and in one situation rendered yet more interesting by a very clear and distinct echo, the rich forest-trees begin to diminish, and the rocks remain, where any soil is left, covered only with rhododendron and box-wood. As we advance higher, even these sturdy Alpine shrubs disappear; and here-on a spot where some overpowering gush of water has evidently overturned a huge mountain-colossus, and which is therefore fitly designated the Chaos-I found the most striking similarity in character between the Pyrenees and the grotesque mountains of North Wales, although the former surpass the latter in grandeur, almost in the same degree that St. Peter's at Rome does the church of St. Paul's in London, of which it is the archetype.

"After emerging from the Chaos,' we behold the marks of four hoofs of Roland's horse impressed on four different rocks, for this is the famous spot where the winged steed alighted, when it made its gigantic leap from the valley of Roncesvalles in Spain into France, while Roland, in a fit of blind rage, cleft the intervening wall of rock (300 feet high) in twain, which to this day bears the memorable name of la Brêche de Roland.

VOL. XVII. NO. XXXIII.

U

"In such a country as this, one would be apt to forget the civilized world altogether, were we not reminded of its existence in the most disagreeable manner by the line of douaniers, who are posted in this quar

ter.

Such men in such a place are like devils in paradise, and to the devil I heartily wished them. Much more in keeping with the scene was a band of Spanish smugglers, as I supposed, most romantically habited, whom I soon afterwards encountered. These were men of athletic appearance, and as haughty in their bearing as courteous in their address. I knew from experience that a Spaniard will thank you for nothing so heartily as a cigar; and accordingly I offered one of my store to him who appeared to be the leader of the cavalcade. He seemed much pleased with the present and thanked me, but like a king.

"Without waiting at the inn of Gavarny, and preparing myself for my task by a good breakfast, I hastened impatiently to the amphitheatre, which is about two or three miles further on. But in this sight I was much disappointed. The descriptions of it are all highly exaggerated; and, notwithstanding my love for the Pyrenees, I must confess that Switzerland possesses many scenes of the same class, but infinitely more sublime. The waterfall, also, is much inferior to those in Switzerland, and, though it could boast ten times as much water as it has, would still remain so. A French writer has happily characterized the cascade of Gavarny by calling it a woven wind,' while the worthy Gascon who is the author of my printed guide,' without the least discrimination compares it at once with Niagara-Tom Thumb with Goliath!

"Nevertheless, it were no very difficult affair to add by the labours of art to the natural beauty of this imposing spot, and render it in some degree more worthy of the extravagant laudings with which travellers have eulogized it. Nothing more is necessary than to collect together the many petty waterfalls and streamlets that run down into the Gave, and lead them into the cauldrons that are enclosed by the amphitheatre, thus changing them into lakes, as they were originally. An expenditure of a few thousand francs would be sufficient to dam up the stream at the place where it has broken through, and effect the projected metamorphosis of the landscape. A new road might also be made on the right side, which would afford a much more favourable view of the whole; and the snow-crowned pics,' doubling their heights in the clear mountain water, would then actually exhibit that magical effect which is at present ascribed to them only by the generosity of pedantic travellers.

"I hope it may not be considered presumptuous in me to hold forth schemes to the attention of the prefect of this department, who, if I am not misinformed, is no less a person than the celebrated author of the Campaign in Russia, Count Segur; and, should he succeed in carrying it into effect, and adding to the scenery of the Pyrenees that in which it is most defective, a good lake, he will thus have executed a second work-or if he is not the famous Segur-a first work, that will secure him the gratitude of universal Europe. I should even feel inclined, did it not appear forward and impertinent, to mention the scheme to the noble King of the French personally, to whom nothing is unimportant that contributes to the adornment and improvement of his country."vol. iii. p. 62.

One observation we feel ourselves called upon to make before we dismiss Prince Pückler-Muskau on the present occasion. Most of our readers are doubtless aware that the Tour of a German Prince was ushered into this country under the special patronage and protection of Göthe. We owe it therefore to them, and to that reverence which we have always professed for the name of Göthe, to reconcile, as far as we are able, the contradiction between our present severe judgment of Semilasso's Weltgang and the laudatory criticisms of the Briefe eines Verstorbenen that proceeded from the pen of the most liberal and comprehensive critic in Europe. The matter is easily explained. The very mildness and kindliness of Göthe's criticism, which is its greatest beauty, led him astray at times from that just medium between unprovoked severity and unmerited eulogy, in which the true tone of criticism lies. It was a weakness of Göthe's mind, both as a critic and as a moralist, that he could not be severe. The consequence was, that such careless, frolicsome, butterfly existences, as our German Prince, often received from him a plentiful meed of praise, which, to more energetic, but less amiable natures, was denied. Besides this general bias, we may remark several special circumstances that may have operated not a little to tune down Göthe's soul into a momentary consonance with that of the Prince. The Prince (though always as a coxcomb) is a lover of nature, and lavish in descriptive writing-so also was Göthe. The Prince mixes up with his love of nature a light, playful, we had almost said a coquettish, sort of religion-of which cast Göthe's religion also was. The Prince, moreover, so far as manners and polish are concerned, is an aristocrat; and the "Vornehmthun" of Göthe has always been the object of Heine's and Menzel's bitterest satire. Add to all this that Göthe only lived to see the first flashing debut of Pückler-Muskau; whereas, we have seen him progressing, like the crab, backwards, during a period of five years, and there will be little left to explain in the apparently superficial criticism which the octogenarian sage of Weimar passed upon our most frivolous and most coxcombical tourist.

ART. II. De l'Education des Mères de Famille, ou de la Civilisation du Genre Humain par les Femmes. Par L. AiméMartin. 2 tom. Paris. 1834.

AMONG the yearly prizes founded by the benevolent Count de Montyon is one, to be appropriated to that book which mostly tends to promote the morality and improvement of mankind. The French Academy, who award these prizes, have bestowed several thousand francs on the work now before us, and we have been told, that it has created much favourable sensation in Germany and Belgium. We therefore opened it with a strong prepossession in behalf of its merits, and we have closed it with a feeling that is truly refreshing: it is like an oasis in the present impure state of French literature; and, amid licentious novels and dramas, triumphantly expressed infidelity, or fanatical division of sects, we hail, with the utmost satisfaction, a production which teems with morality and real religion, and we congratulate France on its having been appreciated by even a portion of her inhabitants. From the title, we expected a treatise on education, which would enter into the details of learning and accomplishment; but it takes higher rank and teaches women not only how and where to look for the formation of their minds, but shows them the importance of their conduct, as mothers, over the future character of a nation. We have thus translated the intentions of the author from his own declaration. "Those who hastily or inattentively turn over these pages may accuse me of a wish to revive the femmes savantes, but let them rest assured, that genitives and datives, as Montaigne says, are not the object of this work. Setting aside all the acquirements of memory, those mechanical attributes of professors, I call upon women to fulfil their destiny by undertaking that superior education which stamps itself upon the soul. To develop the souls of women, that they may become something more than the plaything of our rude passions; to develop the souls of women that they may become those celestial beings of which we dream in our youth; to develop the souls of women that they may awaken ours, this forms the subject and the object of my book."

In fact, if we consider the subject properly, we shall find it one great source of the misery or happiness of all civilized nations; for in what Christian country can we deny the influence which a mother extends over the whole life of her children? The roughest and the hardiest wanderer, while he is tossed over the ocean, or while he scorches his feet upon the desert sands, recurs in his loneliness and suffering to the cares which maternal affection shed over his infancy; the reckless sinner, even in his