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He had also commissioned a friend to attend the sale, and purchase some articles of comfort and luxury for the widow and children, which he himself engaged to pay for; and having performed these and many other offices of disinterested benevolence, besides giving much good counsel and Christian sympathy, and made another effort, unsuccessfully, to induce the former partners of Mr. Grafton to promise some small permanent provision for his family, so a to rescue them from immediate want, he went away sorrowful: he could do

no more.

In the only sitting-room of her lodgings in the "Grove" is Mrs. Grafton, pale and haggard: she moves languidly and nervously from chair to sofa, and from sofa to chair: she takes up a strip of muslin which she tries to hem, and then abandons the task, after a few stitches irregularly set, and her eyes fill with tears. Bertie, sad and anxious, is turning over the leaves of a book-one of that lot for which the gentleman in spectacles at the sale was outbid, and because of which he was angry but Bertie cannot fix himself to reading. Ask him what the book is about, and he could scarcely tell you; his young heart is troubled with many cares and apprehensions. Nevertheless, he sits quietly at the table, and turns over the pages softly; not so softly, however, but that his mother chides him impatiently for the noise he makes; so he shuts up the book at last, and his eyes, too, fill with tears. It is a fine day; the sunshine streams in at the closely-shut windows; and Bertie's two sisters look out disconsolately on the lanky lime-trees and stunted shrubs, and the dark smoky sparrows, which hop about the ground as merrily as though there were no such things as green fields and hedges and country cousins within half an hour's flight, and who seem so fond of town life that little Harriet is sure they are very silly and ignorant birds. There are nurse-maids, too, with children in arm or hand, drawling by; and children without nurse-maids, seeming happier by many degrees than those who are thus guarded and guided, for they can play as they please without being scolded. And Lotte and Harry whisper together, and wish they might go out this fine morning; and Lotte whispers to Bertie to ask mamma if they may not go for a walk; and Bertie says, "Hush, Lotte dear; you know mamma does not like being left alone;" and so, for the twentieth time since they have been in those dreary lodgings, Bertie's sisters are disappointed, and they must still look out at the window, panting for fresh air and restless for want of employment. They have their sad thoughts too, and remembrances, and childhood's bitter tears.

"A letter, ma'am," a dingy maid-of-all-work announces, and lays the letter on the table before Mrs. Grafton. Her hands are not particularly clean, to be sure; and a thumb-mark is visible on the outer fold. But to Bertie anything is a relief from that painful wearying silence which has reigned, day after day, in that melancholy sitting

room.

"It is from Mr. Nelson, mamma; it is his writing, I am sure," he says, in a natural tone of gladness.

"If it is, Bertie, you needn't speak so loud; you know I cannot bear it and you ought not to say

before the servant who my letters come from if you are sure," says Mrs. Grafton, fretfully, as she takes up the letter, and then lays it down almost angrily, pointing to the dirty thumb-mark.

"If you please, ma'am"-and a message from Mrs. Davis, the landlady, is about to be given; but the girl is stopped short at the outset. The dirty thumb-mark, the door left open, the abrupt entrance into the room without knocking or notice to the lady, habituated as she had been to punctilious observances of well-paid and not overworked servants, these are fretting grievances, which give poignancy to her heavier afflictions. She does not scold the poor drudge; it is not in her nature to scold; but she complains and remonstrates. Alas! now Mrs. Grafton has much yet to learn before she can say, tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope." In the day of adversity she has not yet learned rightly to consider.

"And that dreadful bird," adds Mrs. Graftonfor the loud shrill piping of a canary below stairs had burst in upon her at the opening of the door; "would Mrs. Davis be so kind as to put it farther away? the noise goes through my head; I cannot bear it."

There is already a feud about this bird. Mrs. Davis has no children, and she lavishes her maternal tenderness on her beautiful canary; she loves to hear it whistling away from morning to night, and she wonders at her lodger for disliking the pleasant, joyous music. Mary feels herself on safe ground here. She may venture to be impertinent, so she tells the lady she had better speak to Mrs. Davis herself about the bird, if the noise disturbs her. The reproof for the dirty thumb-mark, and the open door, and the abrupt entrance, are rankling in her memory, and she has her revenge.

Bertie starts from his seat impetuously. "Mother, I'll go and speak to Mrs. Davis:" and he bursts from the room. His intention, however, is better than his performance. He soon returns, very red in the face; and as Mary, having at length delivered her message relating to dinner, retires, her mistress enters very pale and angry. She wonders what Mrs. Grafton can mean by send ing master Bertie to her with a complaint about her bird. She is not going to send the bird away, nor stop its singing. She can't think how anybody can find fault with it. She never had a lodger before that did; and if Mrs. Grafton cannot endure it, she had better find rooms somewhere else, where birds are not kept. For her part, she is not obliged to let lodgings at all, and there's a good deal of trouble with them, especially with ladies who must have everything done for them. And having disburdened herself of this homily, Mrs. Davis leaves the room in great dignity, and throughout the remainder of the day the canary seems to warble more lustily and thrillingly than ever.

It is a day of sorrow and humiliation. It is a hard lesson to learn. Mrs. Grafton-that heart

stricken widow-has heard before now of ruined hopes and blighted prospects, and poverty in a hundred shapes; she has not passed half-way through the allotted span of life without witnessing some such scenes of trouble; it may be that she has spoken, in times past, of the duty of resigna

tion, and has thought that if she were suddenly plunged into adversity she would know how to be abased as well as she had known how to abound. But this was when her mountain seemed to stand strong, and she thought she should never be moved; but now-now-she is troubled. She begins to find that she must bend to the world which but a little while since bent to her; and these petty annoyances and vexations threaten to be but the beginning of severer troubles. Ah! if Charles Grafton could but have forseen this-foreseen it when in the heyday of hopeful prosperity, for he did foresee it when foresight was all too late -how different the case might have been! Are there no Charles Graftons to whom the scenes we have ventured to sketch may teach wisdom-if they will receive it?

The trials of that day are not ended. Visitors are announced by the dirty maid-of-all-work; and the door opens to Mrs. Lane and her daughters, who were baulked in their desired purchase of the piano-forte at the sale, and who have since taken the trouble to find out the widow's retreat. It is professedly a visit of condolence, but in reality one of inquisitive and prying curiosity. Perhaps, also, there may be a little mean malignity at the bottom of it all, for "the Graftons always carried themselves quite high enough," Mrs. Lane has been overheard to say; "and 'pride is sure to have a fall.

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"Mother," says Bertie, indignantly, when the visit is over, "if those people come again, I wouldn't see them if I were you. I wouldn't be insulted again by them. If we are poor now, we haven't begged of them: let them leave us alone.'

Ah, Bertie! you, too, have lessons yet to learn -hard, stern, unyielding. Has he the stuff in him out of which men are made-real men? We shall

see.

PICTURES OF MILITARY LIFE IN
ALGERIA.

AMONG the recollections of our early boyhood there are few that survive with greater vividness than those of the famous naval expedition of lord Exmouth against the piratical states on the northern coasts of Africa. For ages, the ruthless corsairs of Morocco, Tunis, and Algiers, swarming in the Mediterranean sea and interrupting the pathways of the Atlantic ocean, with their formidable fleets, had been the terror of mariners, the bane of commerce, and the scourge of all contiguous kingdoms. Many attempts, at different periods, had been made, with but temporary and partial success, to exterminate these maritime freebooters, or at least to arrest their career of plunder; and Spain, France, Holland, Naples, the United States, and our own country, each in its turn lavished precious blood and treasure in the effort. They were indeed no easy conquest. At the time of lord Exmouth's attack the Algerines were sheltered behind fortifications which, from their extent and strength, were deemed impregnable. That brave admiral, however, with a fleet which was regarded as altogether disproportionate to the tremendous task before him, speedily demolished these strongholds of rapine and cruelty, and left a mass of ruins such

as had seldom before been seen even in the wasted pathway of war. Paralyzed by this stroke of chastisement, the concessions which had before been insolently refused were now granted; among which was the abolition of Christian slavery for ever, and the release of more than three thousand unhappy captives of various nations.

Notwithstanding this severe blow at their power, the Algerines, true to their ancient reputation, did not long adhere to their extorted promises of amendment. The city was at the earliest possible period placed in a more formidable state of defence than ever, so as to be in a position to defy any of the great European powers whose vengeance its piratical practices might provoke. Our neighbours, the French, happened to be the next aggrieved party. The original cause of hostilities was of long standing. It appears, that so far back as the time of Louis XVI, some Algerine merchants supplied the French government with a large quantity of corn from the province of Constantina, payment for which had been deferred from reign to reign-one dynasty after another repudiating the liabilities of its predecessors. The matter was still in dispute when the Bourbons returned to the throne of France, and it was at last decided that the debt should be compounded for by the payment of 560,000l. This award being by no means satisfactory to the dey, a system of annoyances and reprisals was commenced against the trade of France. Shortly afterwards, too, during one of the fetes of the Bairam, when it was customary for the grand functionaries to pay their respects to Hussein Dey, some mutually irritating insults were bandied between the latter and the French consul, which led to the recall of that functionary, and the declaration of war against Algiers. After an ineffectual blockade of more than a year, at a cost of nearly a million sterling, hostilities on a more formidable scale were resolved on; in the prosecution of which a large armament under admiral Duperre, and a land force of upwards of 30,000 soldiers under general Bourmont, then minister at war, sailed from Toulon on the 25th of May, 1830.

Thus originated that fearful struggle between civilized France, backed by its vast military genius and resources, and the semi-barbarous tribes of Africa, strong in their chivalric valour, their wild enthusiasm, and their hereditary and passionate love of liberty-a conflict that raged for more than twenty years, with savage ferocity and awful carnage, and at a sacrifice of treasure probably without precedent in the history of conquest. If we want to see war in all its horrors, we have only to turn to the plains, the ravines, and the moun tains of Algeria. There the desolating demon has taken up his abode; perpetual hostilities and sanguinary conflicts having for nearly a quarter of a century become the chronic condition of the "colony."

It is well known that the military operations and colonizing schemes carried on in Algeria occupy a considerable space in the journals and literature of France, which, considering that this aceldama is her only colony of importance, is not a matter of much surprise. One of the most recent works on this subject, entitled "MILITARY LIFE IN ALGERIA," by the Count P. de Castellane, has just been translated and presented to the English

public. These two volumes, although abounding | marches and surprises. This arises from the with faults in structure and style, and thoroughly nomade condition of the inhabitants and the naimbued, as was to be expected, with the military ture of their ambushes and strongholds. The spirit, afford us considerable insight into the wild, favourite mode of operation against this floating hazardous, feverish, desperate, and reckless life and fugitive population is by razzias upon their which the author aims at depicting from personal corn and cattle, in which their resources almost observation and experience. If we venture to col- entirely consist. The Count de Castellane thus lect and arrange a few of these scattered and attempts to extenuate and justify the practice :snatchy pictures for the contemplation of our "The African razzia," he says, "which has been peace-loving readers, it is not from any love of the such a fertile theme for the declamation of great scenes themselves or with any fear that they will orators, which has been called organized robbery, inspire admiration, but rather with the hope that what is it but simply a repetition of what takes they may foster in us a deeper hatred of that war place in Europe under another name? In Europe, spirit which inflicts upon humanity such terrible when once masters of one or two great centres, a sufferings. whole country is yours. But in Africa it is differAt the period of the count's first arrival, in ent; for how can one get hold of a population 1843, the city of Algiers was reposing in tranquil which has no fixed residences, and which is attached beauty and in seeming prosperity along the hill-only to particular places for a season by its movside on which it is built. While the listlessness able pickets and tents? What force, what punand gravity of the Mussulman race had taken re-ishments, what invasion can conquer men without fuge in the upper quarters, where the labyrinthine streets are so narrow that two persons find it difficult to walk abreast, the lower city was astir with all the signs of European life and activity, and a bustling crowd of the most motley description was seen hurrying in all directions. The scene of war was far beyond the walls of the city. The capital This passage, however, does not contain the and the principal towns of the provinces lay whole of the dreadful truth; some of the worst beneath the shadow of the flag of France; but features of the practice are omitted. Besides plunbeyond the range of the cannon or the musket, the dering the property of their prey, the assailants open country generally was still in the possession usually endeavour to kill all the male portion of of the warlike Arab tribes, led on by their redoubt- the tribe that come within their power, to burn able chieftain, Abd-el-Kader. The count was and destroy whatever cannot be removed, and carry impatient to find himself among the camps of the off the women and children as prisoners. No party interior, and longed for the changeful and perilous of Indian Mohawks could plan and execute these excitements of the bivouac. There is something expeditions with more secrecy, cunning, and swiftterrible, almost demoniacal sometimes, in the eagerness than the well-seasoned French soldiers. ardour and zest with which the French soldier is represented as panting for the work of combat and slaughter.

On leaving Algiers, Castellane proceeded to Blidah, the temporary head-quarters of general Changarnier. This little city, known among the Arabs, from the extreme beauty of its surroundings, as "the little rose," is gracefully situated in the midst of orange groves, whose perfumes betray its locality to the stranger long before he arrives at it. Here the celebrated general occupied a very modest abode, fitted up in a Spartan-like style, and where his hospitality always afforded a welcome to travellers. The count was received with great kindness, and was treated as a personal friend from the moment he had crossed the threshold. He found, to his delight, that the general was on the eve of setting out on the expeditions in which the count was to accompany him, so that from the period of his arrival at Blidah our author's time was chiefly spent in preparing for an early depar

ture.

We need hardly remind our readers, that in Algerian warfare there are no great battles fought between the collected forces of the two belligerent parties, the issue of which seals the fate of the country, and decides in whom the sovereignty is to be vested. The war consists rather of a perpetual campaign of skirmishings-a succession of exterminating expeditions-a series of stealthy

* London: Hurst and Blackett. 1853.

cities and without houses, who, like the Scythians, carry their whole property with them? There is no means of doing it, but by taking away from them the corn that feeds and the flocks that clothe them. Hence the war against grain and cattlethe razzia.”

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But let us look upon some of these nocturnal surprises. Here is a brief description of one, with the precautions enforced to prevent their approach being detected by the vigilant Arabs. At two o'clock in the morning the party was to be under arms, and on their route immediately afterwards. Before their departure, the following instructions were given to the officers commanding companies composing the first column. Absolute silence. Coughs to be smothered in the folds of a turban. No pipes. Shots on the march not to be returned; silence to be more strictly kept in case any should be heard, and pace quickened. The first object, to take prisoners; kill only at the last extremity. After prisoners, the capture of cattle is most important. The razzia succeeded beyond all hope. It seemed for a moment, however, to have failed. Our guide either lost his way or deceived us. Just as we were about to shoot him for his mistake, or rather for his treason, we fell upon a peopled district; and, thanks to the measures taken by our commandant, we made, despite our small number, considerable captures. At eight o'clock in the morning we rejoined the colonel, bringing with us thirty-four prisoners, 117 oxen, ten horses, mules, thirty asses, and 1500 sheep and goats, having killed besides about twenty Arabs. abundance for three months. Joy was on all faces, and our ordinary dinner became a festival."

There was

Take another example of these midnight maraudings and mournful aggressions upon unarmed people, in which the shades of the picture are of a darker

and more lurid hue. "At half-past eleven the men, roused out of their sleep, were under arms. Five hundred picked infantry without knapsacks, some troops of cavalry, and the goum (irregular Arab cavalry), composed the force, which at break of day was to fall upon the insurgents. The most perfect order, the profoundest silence, were observed during the march. As the morning twilight came on we had reached that part of the country where the enemy had taken refuge; and our soldiers could already distinguish their tents in the valley and on the slopes of the hills. The surprise had a perfect success. The instant before the soldiers could hardly put one foot before another; they were now ready for a ten hours' hunt without thinking of fatigue. Orders were rapidly given. The only outlet through which the Arabs could escape was shut up. . . . The first douars were soon reached, when cries of alarm and shrieks of terror filled the air, and shots were rapidly exchanged, and the whole valley was in a state of panic, men, women, and children rushing to the sole issue whence they could escape. There they found the chasseurs and goum. On this spot the hissing and whizzing of balls was for awhile incessant, and great numbers were cut down by the sabres of the chasseurs. A hundred and fifty bodies were in a few minutes strewn over the ground. Flocks, women, and children, with some Kabyles, were driven back in the direction of the infantry, and the whole razzia was soon assembled in the centre of the valley."

It would be strange indeed if, even in connection with scenes of rapine and carnage like these, some relentings of humanity and touches of tenderness did not occasionally appear, to show that the hearts of the men thus employed are not utterly petrified against every appeal of suffering and anguish. Many such redeeming gleams of feeling shine out from the midst of the sickening and harrowing details of these volumes. An example is related as occurring after the sanguinary onslaught just referred to. Among the prisoners was an interesting little girl of between five and six years of age, whose mother had just been shot and her father killed by the sabre of a chasseur. Thus suddenly orphaned, and left alone and unprotected in the world, the poor child was walking along in dreary loneliness and terror, large tears falling from her eyes. A rough serjeant softened towards her, and being able to speak a few Arab words, tried to console her. He carried her awhile on his back, and as soon as a mounted chasseur passed by, confided her to his care, that she might finish the march without fatigue. On arriving at the bivouac, she was quite fêted. The surgeon sought her out, doctored her foot, and took every possible care of her. In a short time the good-humour and drolleries of the little creature made her the darling of the whole company. At length the captain resolved to adopt her. Having a married sister in France, who had no children, he in the following year, on his return, took the child with him, where, as usual, she delighted every one. She was sent to school and received an excellent education, and at the time our author wrote was growing up into a beautiful and accomplished girl.

As another illustration of the politic mercy that

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tempers these revolting and scathing severities, we ought in justice to mention, on the testimony of our author, that in these razzias the French are accustomed to put aside a certain number of oxen, sheep, and horses, which are afterwards returned to the principal families of the conquered tribe. By means of the succour thus afforded, owing to the feudal relations subsisting between the chief and the subordinate families, the whole tribe participates in the gift, and is preserved from destruction."

Sometimes, when provisions were getting short in the French camp, companies were sent out to discover and carry off grain from the subterranean granaries in which the Arabs conceal and garner it. On these occasions the assistance of the friendly tribes was generally secured, old men, women, and children joining the foraging party, with wretched little donkeys and mules, and woollen sacks. The mode of proceeding in these enterprises is thus described by the Count de Castellane: "Having reached the place where pits were known to be, the ground was sounded by ramrods, and as soon as any spot partially sank or gave way, or felt hollow, the spade was resorted to, and an aperture soon effected through which a man might slip, who usually found corn and barley in abundance. In every tribe the same family make these pits, as they are thought to have preserved by tradition from their fathers the particular art of doing so. The soldiers took great pleasure in these expeditions. The fortunate discoverer of a pit received as a reward ten francs. The soldier who went first into the aperture was obliged to fill the sacks in a stooping position; when, the pit being widened, his comrades helped him; and when they came out from underground they were covered with sweat, dust, and dirt, but were as happy as possible; for they knew well the great importance of keeping their horses in good condition."

An extraordinary amount of vigilance was necessary to be observed by the French soldier, in order that he might guard against midnight surprises from his foe. "Passing the night on guard," says our author, "awakens only the idea of a certain number of men sleeping at two or three hun dred paces distance, with a small band in advance, one of whom walks up and down with a musket on his shoulder. It is thus we are represented in the theatres at Paris; but in Africa the night guards are as unlike this picture as possible. No one sleeps; every one watches. If the rain falls, if the north wind blows ice in your face, there must be no fire to warm the limbs fatigued by the day's march. A fire might betray the post. Every one must be on the alert constantly, close to his arms; and those who are on sentry, crouching like wild beasts among the bushes, spying out the slightest movement, listening to catch the slightest sound, are all glad to do this to keep their eyes, heavy with sleep, from closing. The safety of all may depend on their wakefulness. Further, should the enemy attack, no firing; the bayonet is for defence; no false alarms; the sleep of the bivouac must on no account be disturbed. Such is the point of honour."

It was not always that the French columns, with all their tiger-like stealthiness and night-shrouded

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marchings, were able to surprise the wary tribes. Generally their progress through the territories of the hostile clans was most fiercely and stubbornly contested, foot by foot; and when the invaders had to pass through wooded ravines, or along exposed mountain ledges, the disturbed Arabs hovered like flocks of vultures around their path, and shot them down by hundreds. Take a glance at one scene detached from this panorama of horrors: it is the account of a desperate contest that raged for three days, with scarcely any intermission, while the French were defiling through the fearful ravines of Oned Foddha. Perpendicular shelves of rock overhung the bed of the river, surrounded by majestic trees; the company of carbiniers of the Chasseurs d'Orleans was ordered to carry these rocks. Full of ardour, they sprang forward; but the declivities were fearful, and eight days' provisions are no trifling load. M. Ricot, their lieutenant, who had rushed forward without troubling himself as to whether he was followed or not, was the first to reach the plateau. He was immediately struck by two bullets in the chest; lieutenant Martin and two carbiniers hastened to protect him, but were killed on the spot. M. Rouffiat, the last of their officers remaining, advanced to their assistance, but was stopped by a frightful wound. The company was now without officers, an avalanche of bullets was showering down on them, and not a head or guide of any sort to direct them. At last the carbiniers were brought back, bearing away with difficulty M. Martin, who still breathed. As for the remainder, they were torn to pieces before the eyes of the column, amidst the savage shouts of the Kabyles." War! war! how dreadful are thy horrors, as shown in such a picture as this!

Nothing, it appears, tended to exasperate the French soldiers so much as the mutilation and profanation of the remains of the fallen. They willingly and daringly risked their lives in the canse for which they fought, but the idea of having their corpses dishonoured filled them with fury, and often, after beholding such spectacles, extorted from them mutual pledges to give no quarter to the Arabs. To avoid falling into their hands, therefore, all sorts of stratagems and precautions were adopted to dispose of their dead. Sometimes they were buried in a deep grave in the interior of some deserted Arab house, after which the building was fired to conceal the newly-disturbed earth; sometimes they were placed in the sepulchres of the country; while, on one occasion, a detachment of sappers and miners was employed to dam and drain a river, and dig a deep hollow in its bed, where the slain of some recent conflict were sorrowfully deposited. From the same motive, the wounded were always carefully guarded and borne away from the scene of contest, though often at great cost of life. Tied in little iron chairs, they were suspended to the sides of mules, or, where amputation had taken place, were stretched on litters composed of branches of trees; and as they thus travelled over rough paths and down steep declivities, shaken at every step of their bearers, they endured excruciating agonies, though generally with a brave uncomplaining patience.

Such are a few glimpses of military life in Algeria, while on the march, which, indeed, until

recently, constituted the rule and not the exception in the history of French occupation. But little time was spent in garrison; nor, according to the count, had the soldiers much relish for a mode of life so dull and insipid. Their delight was to be prowling about the land in quest of prey and excitement. Efforts, however, have been made by the military authorities to relieve the tedium of life at the outposts. Among other measures of a commendable character is the formation of military libraries, consisting of about 400 volumes each, and embracing works on science, history, literature, and the fine arts, mingled with productions of a more popular class. The effect of this provision upon the habits and tastes of the soldiers is said to be of the happiest kind; not only filling up profitably much of the leisure time at their disposal, but also, in many cases, leading to the cultivation of studious habits and preserving from low and grovelling pursuits. We recognise with pleasure, also, the attachment which the soldiers had to some of the dumb animals of their convoy. A donkey, captured from the Arabs at the battle of Isly, was an especial favourite: he had so droll a physiognomy that the whole column knew, loved, and caressed him. A great red bow of riband adorned his head, and he was always at the head of his convoy, as he could not bear to be passed by another. There was also, we are informed, not a single troop or company where there was not some pet dog fondled like a child. A little one, called Tic Tac, seems to have been a special favourite. "Never," says the count, " did I see so charming a little brute: its tricks and drolleries had no end. On a long march, the tiny animal would bark and bark, and so effectually louden its little voice, that some trooper would at last stretch down his foot, and in two bounds Tic Tac would be in front of his saddle, triumphing with most impertinent aris. tocratic barks, quite at his ease, over the poor infantry dogs pattering with weary feet and lolling tongues along the dusty or muddy roads. If neglected in the distribution of provisions, he would place himself before the distributor, in the attitude of a soldier presenting arms, and it was impossible to resist his grimaces. Every one gave a bit of his biscuit to Tie Tac."

No palliatives can blind us, however, to the enormous evils and wrongs inflicted upon the distracted and bleeding country, to which this volume relates; nor have we ever heard any arguments which have satisfied us of the wisdom and policy, to say nothing of the right, of France in attempting to retain this most unprofitable colony. Many of her wisest and most patriotic statesmen and publicists have pronounced against its continued occupation. The prodigious cost incurred during nearly a quarter of a century is never likely to be repaid by any corresponding advantages. sacrifice of life, too, has been enormous. According to an estimate made in 1845, by count St. Marie, France had lost during fifteen years, by sickness and warfare, not fewer than 547,500 men from the flower of the nation. In the same period, the same writer calculates that the ordinary expenses of the military and civil service, above what would be incurred if the army were in France, have amounted to 150 millions of francs, which however, after all, he says, only represent about

The

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