seen by German burgher. There were | reconciliation with the Church. They three hundred of them, men and women, were graciously received by the pope, who accompanied by an extraordinary number promised to admit them back into the fold of children. They were dusky of skin, after seven years of penitential wandering. with jet black hair and eyes; they wore They had letters of credit from King Sigisstrange garments; they were unwashed mund-would the Lüneburgers kindly and dirty even beyond the liberal limits look at them? granting safe-conduct tolerated by the cold-water-fearing citizens and recommending them to the safe proof Lüneburg; they had with them horses, tection of all honest people. The Lunedonkeys, and carts; they were led by two burg folk were touched at the recital of so men whom they described as duke and much suffering in a cause so good; they count. These two alone were dressed in granted the request of the strangers. some kind of splendor, and rode richly They allowed them to encamp; they caparisoned horses; they were most cour- watched in curiosity while the black tents teous in manner; they seemed careful to were pitched, the naked babies rolled out conciliate; they talked among themselves on the grass, the donkeys tethered, and the a strange language, and they understood brass kettle slung over the newly kindled the language of the country. All they fire; then they went home. The next day asked was permission to camp for a few the strangers visited the town. In the days outside the gates. All the Lüne- evening a good many things were missed, burgers turned out to gaze open-mouthed especially those unconsidered trifles which at these pilgrims, while the duke and the a housewife may leave about her doorway. count told the authorities their tale, which Poultry became suddenly scarce; eggs was wild and romantic; even had they doubled in price; it was rumored that invented a story to suit their own objects, purses had been lost while their owners no other could so well have enlisted the gazed at the strangers; cherished cups of sympathies of a credulous, kindly, uncriti- silver were not to be found. Could it be cal, and soft-hearted folk. Many years be- that these Christian penitents, these refore, they explained, while the tears of morseful backsliders, these seekers after penitence stood in the eyes of all but the holiness, these interesting pilgrims, so youngest children, they had been a Chris- gentle of speech, so courteous and humble, tian commuity, living in orthodoxy, and were cut-purses and thieves? The next therefore happiness, in a far-off country day there remained no longer any doubt known as Egypt. The Lüneburgers had about the matter at all, because the gentle heard of Egypt. Crusades had not been strangers were taken in the act, redout of fashion more than two hundred handed. While the Lüneburgers took years, and people still told of dreadful counsel, in their leisurely way, how to things done in Egypt as well as in the meet a case so uncommon, the pilgrims Holy Land. Egypt, indeed, was about as suddenly decamped, leaving nothing bewell known to medieval Europe as it was hind them but the ashes of their fires and to the Israelites under the judges. The the picked bones of the purloined poultry. strangers came from Egypt. It was the Then Dogberry called unto him his brothland of the phoenix. It was not far from er Verges, and they fell to thanking God the dominions of Prester John. It was that they were rid of knaves. This was the country of the Saracen and the infidel. the first historical appearance of gipsies. They were then a happy Christian flock. It was a curious place to appear in. The To their valley came the Saracens, an mouth of the Elbe is a long way from execrable race, worshipping Mahound. Egypt, even if you travel by sea, which Yielding, in an evil hour, to the threats does not appear to have been the case; and persecutions of their conquerors, they and a journey on land not only would have here they turned their faces and wept been infinitely more fatiguing, but would, aloud they abjured Christ. But there- one would think, have led to some notice after they had no rest or peace, and a re- on the road before reaching Lüneburg. morse so deep fell upon their souls that There, however, the gipsies certainly are they were fain to arise, leave their homes, first heard of, and henceforth history has and journey to Rome in hope of getting plenty to say about their doings. etc., Part VI., V. WORDSWORTH'S ETHICS, VI. SKETCH OF A JOURNEY ACROSS AFRICA. Verney Lovett Cameron, Lieutenant Royal VII. SECRET-SERVICE MONEY UNDER GEORGE I., Academy, IX. RESOURCES OF SERVIA AND BOSNIA, THE SEVEN-NIGHTS' WATCH, MISCELLANY, POETRY. Cornhill Magazine, 593 597 By Sarah Cornhill Magazine, By Good Words, 629 635 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. An extra copy of THE LIVING AGE is sent gratis to any one getting up a club of Five New Subscribers. Remittances should be made by bank draft or check. or by post-omce money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. Ali postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Gay, Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents. THE SEVEN-NIGHTS' WATCH. NORTH-COUNTRY SUPERSTITION. NAY, don't turn the key, not yet, not yet, five nights haven't past and gone Since we laid the green sods straight and meet, to wait for the cold gray stone; See, his pipe still lies on the mantel where the old armchair is set, The knife is left in the half-carved stickdon't turn the door-key yet! How it rains! it must be dree an' all where the wet wind sweeps the brow, And it's dry and warm by the hearthstone; don't steek the lintel now! Fling a fir-log on the ingle; he was used to love the light, That shone "haste thee" through the darkness, when he was abroad at night. ONE OF THE SEVENS. "We spend our years as a tale that is told." - Ps. XC. 9. 66 'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." - Ps. xxii. 6. SEVEN times ten-they came and fled, I read the past by memory's beam. Seven times ten, with untold woe For sin unseen by all save One, Has turned my darkness into day. Seven times ten; all fades not yet, Dear friends are round my table set, The path has verdure to the last. For countless gifts, for bounteous grace, By him is every want supplied; And not alone from youth to age, In death we live, for he hath died To win our glorious heritage. Good Words. S. W. WHEN WE ARE PARTED. WHEN we are parted, let me lie In some far corner of thy heart, Silent, and from the world apart, Like a forgotten melody. Forgotten by the world beside, Cherished by one and one alone, For some loved memory of its own, So let me in thy heart abide. When we are parted, keep for me The sacred stillness of the night; That hour, sweet love, is mine by right, Let others claim thy day of thee. The cold world sleeping at our feet, My spirit shall discourse with thine; When stars upon thy pillow shine, At thy heart's door I stand and wait. Transcript. H. C. S. From The Edinburgh Review. simple and necessary step, to the early THE COMTE DE PARIS' CAMPAIGN ON history of the United States when they THE POTOMAC.* THESE Volumes in more than one respect should satisfy any reader. In the first place they meet the want hitherto felt of such a skilful narrative of one of the greatest, and certainly the most complicated of modern wars, as should give a juster measure than yet has been attained of the weight of individual events, and trace more clearly their influence on the general course of the struggle. Advances, retreats, victories, defeats, succeeded each other confusedly during the contest on the different theatres of the war, each of which for the day seemed of chief interest. Preceding narratives had either diminished unduly the importance of some of these, by dwelling on those that were better known; or, describing them in detail, had failed to show their bearing on the struggle as a whole. Writers might have attempted this however with success, who would have altogether failed where the Comte de Paris has most perfectly succeeded. Hitherto no one on either side of the Atlantic has been found to view the character of this war in its larger historical aspect, as one impressed on it not merely by the incidents of the day, but by the slowly strengthened force of precedent. Much has been said of the divergence of the American soldiery from European rules, their want of discipline, their personal disregard when not under fire for those who led them, their general impatience of restraint. The peculiar features of the actions fought have been dwelt upon as though these could have been reproduced in any rough and wooded terrain by any militia that found themselves engaged there. Too often European critics have treated the subject, when deeming it worth examination, as a mere question of locality, or hasty training, or a superabundance of the raw material of war. The Comte de Paris approaches it in its military aspect with the true spirit of philosophic inquiry. He goes back, being the first to take this * Histoire de la Guerre Civile en Amérique. Par M. le Comte de PARIS, ancien Aide-de-Camp du Général MACCLELLAN. Tomes I. et II. Paris: 1874. Tomes III. et IV. 1875. were struggling and separated colonies. At the risk of wounding French sentiment, he enters deeply into that long struggle for a continent between his nation and our own, a struggle which, far more than the petty wars that raged along the Spanish main between fierce viceroys and savage buccaneers, decided the destinies of a new world. He shows how the endurance and readiness of the rough colonial levies aided the soldiers of the Georges, too ready to despise their allies, in gradually and surely founding a new empire, and shattering, despite the genius of a Montcalm, the visions of French dominion in the West, as effectually as the native military skill of Clive ruined them in the East. Thence he passes onward to the most humiliating episode of British history — the American Revolutionary War. In the prowess as well as in the very defects of Washington's "Continentals," he traces at once the continuance of the traditions of the struggle waged against his own country, and the germs of those vices and virtues which made the American soldier of 1861-5 by turns the derision and the admiration of the world. This heritage of the troops of the Union from the stubborn contests fought first with the Latin race, and afterwards with the British, gives the key to much that the best American writers have hitherto failed to apprehend, chiefly because they never looked at the subject with the breadth of view which seems natural to the Comte de Paris. It explains the apparent contradiction in the mixture of general feebleness with high individual courage, of fine design with imbecile execution, of success changed unexpectedly into defeat, or causeless panic into noble rallying, which has hitherto been the despair of commentators on the Civil War, and has caused the greatest of modern strategists to publicly avow, so recently as last autumn, that he had not yet found the proper materials for any proper study of it. It has long been known that the American troops were fre quently routed without proper cause. More recently European writers, those of Great Britain especially, have discerned sort of warfare, so different from that carried midst of a wild and wooded country, they on in Europe, in these actions fought in the already displayed all those qualities that have since distinguished the American soldieraddress, energy, valor, and individual intelligence. and admitted that under these circum- | destroy him. Thus, though despised by the stances they rarely gave way to real panic. aristocratic ranks of the regular English army, The more this war is studied by any fair the provincial militia, as they were then critic, the more will it be found that the called, were soon able to win their esteem, vices were those of the system, whilst the and to inspire respect in their foes. In this virtues were inherent in the men. And the Comte de Paris has done a great service to historical truth in showing how both virtues and vices were inherited in a sense as strict as that which showed the victors of Sedan the true descendants of those who made Brandenburg formidable under the Great Elector, and Prussia a great power under Frederick. But here we prefer, by the use of one or two extracts from his invaluable opening chapter, to let the Comte de Paris speak for him self. Let him first tell the story, from a slightly French point of view, as is natural, of the rough school in which the old provincial levies learned their business:— It was against our own troops in the Seven Years' War that the American volunteers, at that time the militia of an English colony, first tried their arms. We may remember this not only without bitterness, since happily the flag of the United States has never been found opposed to that of France on the battlefield, but even as a recollection to create one bond the more between them and us. For, in the unequal struggle which decided the mastery of the new continent, these militiamen received valuable lessons whilst massing themselves against the handful of heroic men who, in despite of their country's forgetfulness of them, defended our empire beyond the sea. In this school were formed the soldiers of the War of Independence. Montcalm, rather than Wolfe, was the teacher of the adversaries who were soon to have the task of avenging him. It was while seeking in long and often disastrous expeditions to plant French authority on the banks of the Ohio that the founders of the American nation served their apprenticeship to the indefatigable energy which in the end triumphed over every obstacle. It was the example of the defenders of Fort Carillon staying a British army, from behind a feeble parapet, which inspired in later days the de fenders of Bunker's Hill. It was the sur render of Washington at Fort Necessity, the disaster of Braddock at Fort Duquesne, which taught the future victors of Saratoga how, in an uncultivated country, to embarrass an encmy's march, cut off his supplies, do away with his apparent advantages, and finally take or So of the War of Independence he writes, again giving his countrymen perhaps a little more than their due, as his own words show that our part in the training of these levies has been slighted in the former extract: And they displayed them still when, fifteen years later, they took up arms, under the name of volunteers or national militia, to throw off the oppressive yoke of the mother country. But they had no longer the trained officers of the English army to direct, and the veteran regulars to support them in critical moments. Their part of auxiliaries had ill prepared them to maintain unaided the great struggle on which their patriotism forced them to enter. Except Washington, no colonial officer had shone in the higher grades. And so the Frenchmen who came over with Lafayette to put their experience at the service of the young American army, brought it precious aid. Yet its best ally and its greatest power lay in that perseverance which enabled it to draw advantage out of defeat instead of being overwhelmed by it. This was soon seen when the arrival of Rochambeau gave it the opportunity of that fine and decisive campaign which carried the war from the banks of the Hudson to Virginia, and finished it at a blow in the trenches of Yorktown. . . . In this first effort of the young American nation to organize its military strength, we find all the precedents of 1861, and in its little armies of the last century, the model of those that took part in the Civil War. The comte passes on at this point to a discussion as to whether the Northern or Southern levies of 1861 can be more properly compared with the volunteers that won its independence for the Union. Here we do not care to follow him; for in all parts where the military history, which in his opening paragraphs he declares to be the essential purpose of his |