gambler stagger home to the lodgings where we found him last noon; our feelings are revolted. We have for the moment no patience with a whining sentimentalist who would cry, "Alas! poor human nature!"

quite sure, do not know the modern name of the Lake Copais, ever famous for its eels.

Mr. Findlay's Atlas includes a distinct map of the world known to the ancients, and distinct plans of ancient Rome and Athens, as well as distinct modern maps of the two So ends our chronicle of "A Day of Fox." hemispheres and of the chief quarters of It will of itself explain why such a man the globe; so that, whether regarded as an was, from first to last, conquered by one his ancient or a modern atlas, it is equally well equal but scarcely his superior in great calculated to be generally useful, except that intellect. Darker tints might be used, as a modern atlas it is necessarily defective but we have revealed enough to show through the absence of any recognition of our the reason why, amidst the grave and deco- Australian colonies otherwise than as a portion rous people of England, Fox held office for of the Eastern Hemisphere. As a Comparative months, and Pitt counted his power by de- Atlas of Ancient and Modern Geography" — cades of years. The personnel of Charles all that it professes to be - - it is very careful Fox was fatal to his party and himself. But and complete; and very great pains have our judicial summing up upon the effects of been taken for the accurate identification of that extraordinary man's career, and upon places named by ancient authors hitherto ngt his place in history, we will reserve for assigned to any spot with the exactitude another paper. required by a geographer. The Index at the end, too, is ample and convenient. By it any locality may at once be identified under both its modern and its ancient names, where it has both.

From the Examiner.

A Comparative Atlas of Ancient and Modern Geography, comprised in Fifty-four Maps; Such an Atlas as this, supplying a real showing the various Divisions of the World want, will not fail to take a permanent place as known to the Ancients, and their correamong books of study, and we trust that it sponding Sites and Boundaries in Modern Countries; derived from the most authen-worth the author's while to render it still may receive so much patronage as to make it tic sources. With an Introduction to Ancient Geography, and an Index, in Two section to the Index, which shall be a geomore complete, by the addition of yet a third Parts. I. The Ancient before the Modern graphical dictionary of the names peculiar Names of Countries, Places, &c. II. The to the middle Latin. Many studies lead Modern before the Ancient Names. By ALEXANDER G. FINDLAY, F. R. G. S. Tegg Latin as an universal language, not as a the works of the writers who used among and Co. mother tongue. They applied not a few WE call attention to this title-page, which names to towns and countries that were not we have given complete, because it very strictly classical. Let it be supposed, for exaccurately describes the work to which it ample, that a historical person is said by one belongs. This new Comparative Atlas carries of those writers, a contemporary, to have gone out very thoroughly a most useful idea. Side at a certain time to Regiomontanum, Borussoby side the past and the present are so rep-rum; neither town nor country could be found resented that a classical reader may not only in Mr. Findlay's Atlas, from which, by its at once find the localities named in his books plan, all such names are excluded. The or maps adapted to them, but may instantly eventual addition of a third index of the kind identify them by their modern names. The here indicated would render this Comparative student of modern geography may in the same Atlas, already available for most historical way, at a glance, be reminded of the classical purposes, available for all. It now, however, associations that attach to any river, town, perfectly fulfils its promise, and supplies, in or country. Such an Atlas will be of very its way, all that is required by the majority great advantage to all students, by giving new of readers. facilities to the clear understanding of political geography, and by making it not only The Harmonies of Physical Science in relapossible to form, but impossible not to form, more distinct and profitable ideas of ancient history than are to be had from the use of maps in which comparisons are not suggested. We feel little doubt that there are thousands of school-boys who go to college, or even pass through college, with but a dim notion of what may be the modern name of the much-talked-of Borysthenes. Thousands of well-educated scholars, we are

tion to the Higher Sentiments; with Observations on the Study of Medical Science, and the Moral and Scientific Relations of Medical Life. By William Hinds, M. D., &c.

A view of the wonders of nature, especially in chemical and medical science, as evidences of design; accompanied with remarks on the proper feelings and conduct that should characterize the medical man, and the spirit in which he should undertake his professional duties. — Spectator.

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 480.-30 JULY, 1853.

POETRY: The Deserted Road, 257; Little Topsy's Song - Express - Epitaphs, 258. SHORT ARTICLES: Theophilus-An Indian Beauty - Burmese Simile, 267; Views in Apsley House and Walmer Castle, 270; Mount Vernon, 272; Old Clothes in Ireland - Untruthfulness of the Irish, 279; The Abbe de St. Martin, 286; Declivity of Rivers, 288; Indians in European Dress, 291; The Jesuit Ghezzi, 300; Crater of Hecla, 308; Byron's Sardanapalus, 312; De Quincey, 319.

NEW BOOKS, 317, 320.

THE DESERTED ROAD.

BY T. B. READ.

ANCIENT road, that wind'st deserted
Through the level of the vale,
Sweeping toward the crowded market
Like a stream without a sail ;

Standing by thee, I look backward,
And, as in the light of dreams,
See the years descend and vanish,
Like thy whitely-tented teams.
Here I stroll along the village

As in youth's departed morn;
But I miss the crowded coaches,
And the driver's bugle-horn-
Miss the crowd of jovial teamsters
Filling buckets at the wells,
With their wains from Conestoga,
And their orchestras of bells.
LIVING AGE.

CCCCLXXX.

VOL. II.

17

To the mossy way-side tavern
Comes the noisy throng no more,
And the faded sign, complaining,
Swings unnoticed at the door;
While the old, decrepit tollman,
Waiting for the few who pass,
Reads the melancholy story

In the thickly-springing grass.
Ancient highway, thou art vanquished;
The usurper of the vale
Rolls in fiery, iron rattle

Exultations on the gale.

Thou art vanquished and neglected;
But the good which thou hast done,
Though by man it be forgotten,

Shall be deathless as the sun.

Though neglected, gray, and grassy,
Still I pray that my decline
May be through as vernal valleys
And as blest a calm as thine.

And my sister dropped down dead in the Minories:

Hurrah, then, for the white child's work-But the reason why I'm here interred, according Humanity forever!

From the Eclectic Review. | century, aided in the terrific revolution of

Essai sur la Vie et le Caractère de J. J. Rous-opinion in France, Rousseau was the most

seau. 1852.

Par S. H. MORIN. Paris: Ledoyer.

THE Eastern theory of the transmigration of souls may be illustrated by the principle of liberty. It is that immortal spirit which the heroic poets describe it to be; but it appears to every age in a new shape. In the ancient republics it harmonized in beauty with the works of that genius which it made sublime. It was a ghastly and unnatural phantom among the ruins of the Bourbon monarchy in France. Its means of development are, like its aspect, varied into a new fashion for every time and every country. The ostracism of statesmen at Athens and the stabbing of Cæsar at Rome, the execution of Charles and the assassination of Marat, arose from one feeling deeply rooted in human nature. It suspected Aristides and trusted Monk. It was defended by the pious eloquence of Milton; by the subtle logic of Dumarsais; by the daring sophistry of Volney and Voltaire; by the blasphemy of Helvetius; and by the fantastic, but beautiful declamation of Jean Jacques Rousseau.

For this reason the defenders of liberty have ignorantly been supposed to be necessarily hostile to religion. Such an error would be less surprising had piety been a characteristic of the writers who have propagated despotic opinions. Clarendon possessed faith, but Gibbon scoffed; Hume was a cold-blooded infidel, and Hobbes was a blasphemer. If Paine eulogized free governments, Collins libelled them. Diderot and Dalembert, the enemies of Christianity, were the friends of republican institutions; but Shaftesbury and Bolingbroke, the friends of despotism, were the enemies of Christianity also. Therefore it is not only unphilosophical, but malicious, to identify the political principles of these men with their religious ideas. We have no more right to say that the democratic spirit is an emanation from impiety because Condorcet, who denied the divine right of kings, denied also the divinity of Christ, than to declare that monarchy and blasphemy are synonymous terms because the sophist of Malmesbury was the apologist of both. The truth is that as advocates cannot select their clients, clients are often unable to secure the advocates they would choose to plead in their behalf. It is a general misfortune of society, and has been the great obstacle to the progress of every righteous cause. More injury has been done to liberty by dangerous friends - Jesuits at one time, and infidels at another-than by all the persecutions which tyrants and oligarchies have devised since the establishment of laws.

Among the men who, during the eighteenth

- a

ligious theories, even his political principles, extraordinary. His moral character, his rewere problems which he bequeathed to posterity. Unlike all other human beings, as he was, he only perplexed the world more hopelessly by endeavoring to describe himself. Before his Confessions" were published, there was a cloud about him; but when these appeared, though part of the oid mystery was dispelled, a new one, far more impenetrable, was created. Accordingly, many as the writers are who have investigated the idiosyncracies of Rousseau, not one has secured the concurrence of mankind with his views. There is still confusion; there are still contradictory ideas. To some the Genevese sophist is even now an inspired idiot; to others an impostor, mad with vanity; philosopher to the remnants of the Academy, a maniac to the relics of the Sorbonne. A whole cabinet of literature is divided, therefore, between the apologists, the panegyrists, the detractors, the libellers, and the temperate critics of Rousseau. Burke paints him as a wild conspirator, with a rainbow fancy, a pen bewitching by its eloquence, and a mind plunged into delirium by the study of phantasies. Lord John Russell commemorates him as the false oracle of Geneva pursuing an ideal of social virtue, losing himself in searching it; but converting and deluding an entire people. Baruel points him out as a bewildered dreamer, a criminal with redeeming qualities, one of the most dangerous that ever lived, because his sophisins were so persuasive; but not one of the worst, because none could approach in audacity the powerful but repulsive genius of Voltaire. The French drink in his doctrines, and venerate his ashes in the Pantheon; the Germans reject his theories as too aerial to be in unison with theirs; the English read his "Confessions," admire his sentimental reveries, neglect his political works, and vituperate or ridicule his name. In this manner the discussion has gone on through more than half a century, and new apologists or detractors appear at intervals to assist in elucidating or obscuring the truth.

Rousseau's latest critic in our language is Mr. Bancroft; in his own, M. Morin. The American historian places himself between libel and panegyric, to draw a fair character of this "self-torturing sophist," but assumes a tone somewhat too conventional for the discussion of a subject on which it is essentially necessary to avoid consulting the catalogue of registered opinions. The French writer, on the other hand, comes like a Red-Cross knight, assailing every antagonist of Rousseau; defending all the acts of his life, and all the motives of his acts, denying every hostile charge; and scathing with every contempt

uous invective all who find a blemish in the conduct or morals of Madame de Warens' lover. His analysis does not pretend to be a picture of Jean Jacques' whole career. It eliminates, though not entirely, the episodes of his earlier life, but finds abundant opportunity to prove its own boldness and determination, by defending all the most equivocal passages of the philosopher's career after he retired to the Hermitage, in 1757. According to this defence, he was honest in his intrigue with Madame D'Houdetot; he was excusable in his submission to the younger Levasseur; he was pardonable in abandoning his children to the suspicious mercies of a Foundling Hospital. This is the fault of all apologies. They convert crimes into virtues; error into wisdom; weakness into elevation of mind.

In touching on the subject which M. Morin has so laboriously laid open, we shall not be expected to describe the life or to analyze the character of Rousseau. There are conspicuous points in both, however, which may be entered upon briefly, that we may express a general opinion of the whole. Few are found, with the flippancy of Gray, to express contempt for his genius, or to deny the power and sweetness of his pen. But he is so little understood that a criticism on his life and opinions can never be without its interest.

spired him with the free, republican spirit he afterwards communicated to the whole race speaking a language in common with him. He also derived from early teaching a taste for music, exemplified in his later years by many beautiful compositions. When sent to school he learned, not quickly, but well, though all the while his imagination was far more active then his reasoning faculties. He felt far more and far deeper than he thought. It was this which was at once a sign and a cause of those habits of mind which rendered him so miserable to himself, and so unintelligible to others.

The moral education of Rousseau, though he is not willing to reveal the truth, was of a very equivocal character. At home, the code of French romances instilled into him his first and very false ideas of honor; at school, he was initiated into the practice of concealment, of disobedience, and of falsehood; under his father's roof, again, he was a licensed idler, and then, when apprenticed to an engraver, the cruelty and selfishness of his master, interpreted by the dangerous sophistry of youth, forined a justification for positive offences as well as neglect of duty. His pleas to himself are singularly characteristic of his state of mind. He was watched at his work, therefore he cunningly eluded it. He was not permitted to share in all the delicacies of the table, therefore he stole what would compensate for the things thus withheld. By such a process his mind became hardened against virtuous impressions. He grew selfish, sensual, and greedy.

The only misfortune, according to Chateaubriand, which is greater than that of giving birth to another, is that of being born yourself. This affectation he probably derived from Rousseau, who describes the day of his birth as the most unfortunate of his life. So, The cruelty of his master at length caused perhaps, it was, though not in the sense he in-him to run away. He escaped to Compignon, tended; for his mother died on that day, leaving him, on the 28th of June, 1712, half an orphan, to the care of his father, a humble watchmaker of Geneva. His education, with its results, justifies the fears of those who dread the influence on their children's minds of an unchecked habit of reading romances. Before he learned one maxim of virtue; before he was on his guard against a single temptation; before a solitary moral feeling, or one religious perception had been introduced into his breast, he was accustomed to pore over exciting fictions, wild stories, appealing to the most dangerous passions of his nature. The emotions which thus became early familiar to him, the ideas he acquired of life, the brooding dreams in which he indulged, all tended to form a character originally susceptible to any powerful impression. The groundwork, therefore, of his disposition was the agitation of the feelings, and the pleasing of the senses. From this state he passed into a new stage of intellectual existence. He threw aside tales, and read history-the narratives of the heroic age, the lives of illustrious Romans and Greeks, the epic of ancient liberty, which in

met with the curé, who persuaded him to apostatize from the Reformers' faith, and was by him directed to the mansion of Madame de Warens, at Annecy. That woman, at his first sight of her, appears to have exercised an extraordinary influence upon him. He could little have foreseen then that he was to become her lover, the master of her heart, the depositary of her secrets; nor she that he would be her jealous tyrant, that he would expose to the world all the acts of her life, that he would reveal every scandalous episode of their intercourse, and fix her name forever, as a less vulgar Theodora, among the female characters disreputable in history. She then, however, by the aid of some ecclesiastics, sent him to Turin to be instructed in the Catholic religion, which he soon afterwards embraced, though confessing it was the act of a bandit to yield up his creed for the sake of easier means of life. In two months he left the college, with twenty francs as the purchase-money of his apostasy, and entered the service of the Comtesse de Vercellis. In her house occurred that famous incident which fixes a deep moral stain on the early life of Rousseau. There was a