of the North; and the South prepared to go | the friend of Thiers, would read an Eloge of out of a Union which no longer afforded any Lord Macaulay. An hour before the beginguaranty for her rights or any permanent ning of the séance, every seat was occupied, sense of security, and which had brought her and in the brilliant and distinguished crowd under the domination of a growing fanatiof expectant faces many an English countecism in the North, the sentiments of which, if carried into legislation, would destroy her nance might have been recognized. The seats institutions." reserved for the ambassadors and ministers were all filled, but the absence of some who And, from her own point of view, we hold ought to have been there was nevertheless rethat the South was right, and that Mr. Pol-marked. The atmosphere of the French Inlard's vindication of her case is a just one. stitute does not seem congenial to the members The conflict between the free North and the of the Emperor's Cabinet, and though the slave South was, as Mr. Seward called it, an emperor himself is said to covet a place among "irrepressible" one. By the inexorable logic the Forty of the Académie Française, he never of facts, the North was forced to go on, even appears at these public gatherings to do honor against its will and purpose, till it had car- to those who are an honor to his empire. ried out the principles on which its existence Shortly before three o'clock the doors opened, was based. If the Union lasted, the destruc- and the members of the different Academies tion of slavery was a mere question of time. walked in and took their places on each side It may be, as some English advocates of the of the President. The President opened the South assert, that slavery cannot endure with proceedings by reading a report of the differa great free and independent country on its ent prizes which the Académie des Science Morfrontier. But this hypothesis is after all ales et Politiques had awarded this year. These problematical; and the Southern leaders did prizes are given for essays on philosophy, law, wisely in the slave-owning interest to sever their connection with the North. This is the tics. Though the prizes are small, varying political economy, general history, and polimoral of Mr. Pollard's book; and we think from £50, to £400, yet their aggregate he proves his case fairly. Whether Southern amount must be considerable, and is likely sympathizers in Europe will thank him for to increase steadily as it becomes more and having given this lucid demonstration of the more the fashion among great men to leave true causes of secession, is another question. money to the Institute for the encouragement In the interest of slavery of that peculiar of studies connected with their own favorite institution which had given "larger happi- pursuits. Thus one of the prizes given by ness to the people of the South" than to the the Academy this year was the Prix Léon free men of the North-he prays for the suc- Faucher, founded by Léon Faucher, who died cess of the secession movement. How far not many years ago, on "the history of the Englishmen can join in supporting his prayers Hanseatic League," awarded to M. Emile is a matter on which a careful perusal of the Worms. It is an excellent feature in the "First Year of the War" will enable them distribution of these honors that they are alto form a sounder judgment. E. D. ways accompanied by a detailed statement of the strong and weak points of each essay; and it was curious to remark how, in several cases, the successful competitors were praised for not having aimed at the display of a vast erudition, but having confined themselves to what was really important. From The Saturday Review. MIGNET'S SPEECH ON MACAULAY. THE Académie des Sciences Morales et Politiques held its annual meeting on the 13th of June, at the Palais de l'Institut de France. These annual meetings are always an event at Paris, and though the theatre in which they take place is large, the tickets of admission which are distributed by the members of the Academy are sought with great eagerness. The meeting this year was more than usually crowded. It was known that M. Mignet, the famous historian of the French Revolution, As soon as the report was read, M. Mignet stepped forward in his full academical dress, black with green embroidery, and, after bowing to the audience, which received the popular historian with loud clapping of hands, began to read his Eloge. He read from a printed paper; but such was the liveliness of his delivery that, but for the perfection and preciseness of each period, he seemed to speak rather than to read to his sympathizing audi- éloge of Macaulay, delivered at Paris by Migence. What he said of Macaulay's oratory net, one of the most faithful believers in Conwas eminently true of his own :-"Though stitutional Government, could not but sound carefully elaborated, it seemed conceived at like an involuntary protest against the desthe moment when it was pronounced. It had potism that has established itself in France; the perfection of a studied and the movement and the successful opposition offered by Paris of an improvised delivery; it united thought-in the late elections to the system pursued by fulness and elegance with freedom and impulsiveness." Mignet cannot be less than sixty years of age; but his face is full of youth. He has a beautiful head, with bright thoughtful eyes, a prominent yet well-proportioned forehead, and a mouth full of grace and dignity. There are not many such heads in France, so complete and harmonious, so full of vigor and manliness, and yet so charming, and even lovely. His voice is melodious, and lends itself to every modulation; and though his countrymen imagine they discover in his language a southern accent, no French ever sounded better to foreign ears than the French of Mignet. His speech which lasted for an hour and a half, was the perfection of academical eloquence a style in which France has always excelled, and which may be said to have its home in the halls of the French academy. In the Académie Française each member is received by an éloge, and he has in turn to deliver a panegyric on the late academician whose seat he is to fill. In the other Academies, a speech has to be delivered by their respective Secretaries in memory of each of its members and foreign members, and it was in his capacity as secretary of the Académie des Sciences Morales et Politiques, of which Macaulay had been a foreign Associate, that M. Mignet delivered his last eulogy. As his speech appeared the day after in the Journal des Débats, it has no doubt by this time been read by many of Macaulay's friends and admirers in England. But they can form a very inadequate idea, from the printed speech, of the effect produced by it when delivered. It was not eloquence merely, but something almost like music. It was not mere panegyric, but praise poured out with all the generosity of a heart that overflows with sincere admiration. It was not merely the description of a great man, but was like a statue cut in marble and endowed with life through the passion of the loving sculptor. Though there were none of those pointed allusions to passing events which have of late become so common in French literature, yet the the emperor and his friends, made the audience more sensitive to every word of praise that was bestowed by the orator on the political institutions of the country of Macaulay. Thus, when describing the return of the Whigs, and the first entry of Macaulay into public life, M. Mignet delivered the following sentence with a significant expression, which was caught at once and applauded by his audience :— teenth century had established in theory, and "The principles of social life which the eighwhich the French Revolution endeavored to carry into practice, had for a time, fallen into discredit in France, and been arrested in Europe through the violence of the struggle: but here sooner, there a little later, at last everywhere, they must and will hereafter spread and establish themselves. Religious toleration towards all who worship God differently in one and the same country, civil equality for all who are born on the same soil, political freedom for all who compose the same nation-in one word, the wishes of the people introduced into the Government, justice ruling the law, and the law ruling the State, this is what the world is destined to see for the welfare of nations and for the honor of our social institutions." Or, again, when speaking of the period of William III., he said, with more than usual emotion : "It was then that the liberty of England came out triumphant from a dangerous struggle; it was then that the Government of a vast kingdom under the serious control of Parliament was founded, which was to grow and gather strength from generation to genehas won the admiration of the greatest judges ration-a Government strong and free, which of human institutions, and retains the affection of a grateful nation-a nation strong enough for every trial, for every difficulty and danger, and working out the boldest and the most difficult schemes, prosperous and well conducted-a Government which by its represenof England while facilitating her material tative system has not diminished the greatness progress-which is the envy of nations, and will be sooner or later the political form of the whole of civilized Europe." Mignet called Macaulay's history the epic He is attached to the right, not as a Whig, but as an Englishman; he condemns vile actions and tyrannical violence, not from party motives, but from reasons of justice. Never indifferent under the pretext of being impartial, he considers all facts in their relation either to moral law or to the public good." poem of British freedom-l'épopée de la liberté Britannique—and he did full justice to Macaulay's industry, judgment, and fairness, and to his extraordinary power of description, which made his work, as he expressed it, la resurrection complète d'un peuple. His own sketch of Macaulay's history was admirable, but it is almost impossible to translate Mignet's thoroughly French sentences into English. We give his striking outline of William III. : "L'équité de M. Macaulay resiste même à l'enthousiasme qu'il éprouve pour cet habile politique qui semble n'en avoir jamais ressenti pour rien, tant ses calculs cachent ses ardeurs, profond dans la conduite, simple dans la gloire, triste dans la prospérité, communiquant peu ses pensées, ne montrant presque jamais ses sentimens, ne révélant pour ainsi dire ses desseins que par ses actions, ne paraissant pas aimer, ne cherchant jamais à plaire, vigoureux génie sans éclat, fier caractére sans attrait, grand homme sans séduction. Singulière destinée que celle de Guillaume, qui met ses ambitions dans ses services, devient stathouder, en délivrant la république des Provinces-Unies de l'invasion; roi, en débarrassant l'Angleterre do despotisme; chef de la ligue militaire d'Augsburg, en préservant l'Europe de l'assujettissement. Le maintien glorieux de la nationalité dans le pays de sa naissance, le triomphe bienfaisant de la loi dans le pays de son adoption, le rétablissement de l'équilibre territorial menacé sur le continent par le redoutable et victorieux Louis XIV, font de lui, en 1672, le sauveur de la Hollande, en 1688, le libérateur de l'Angleterre, en 1697, le modérateur de l'Eu rope. M. Mignet did not shut his eyes to the defects of Macaulay's history. He spoke of "the too vehement boldness of his judgments, and the too continuous pomp of his language.' But he defended him with all the authority that belongs to himself as the historian of France, and the keeper of the French archives, against the charges of unfairness or party feeling in the composition of his great work: "M. Macaulay (he said) though a brilliant writer, is in general a judge of great fairness. And, again, when summing up, M. Mignet dwelt most strongly on the straightforwardness of Macaulay's character :— "He always acted according to his conviction, and the firm principles of his elevated mind constantly guided the acts of his irreproachable life. He was a faithful and prudent supporter of that liberty which he demanded for the whole world, and a persevering defender of that justice which he required under all forms, a generous friend of the human race, for which he felt a sincere interest, in all its stages. Neither in Parliament as an orator, nor in India as a legislator, nor in the Council of the Cabinet as a minister, nor in the decisions of history as a judge, did he for a single moment give up the right, abandon equity, or sacrifice under any pretext whatsoever honesty to interest. His words and his acts, his habitual thoughts and his whole life, bear witness to the nobility of his soul and the elevation of his mind. One can hardly imagine such an assembly and such a speech listened to with such evident sympathy and delight anywhere but at Paris. It requires the prestige of an academy which, during all the vicissitudes of the last two hundred years, has always commanded the respect of the French people, and the regard of the whole of Europe. Though, among the numerous members of the five Academies which together constitute the Institut de France, there must be some of less eminence than the rest, yet no man of real eminence in France, whether as a writer, a poet, a scholar, a statesman, an historian, a philosopher, an artist, or a naturalist, has ever failed in obtaining in the end an honorable admission to its ranks. It is a true Chamber of Peers, admission to which was felt by Macaulay to be a greater honor than admission to the House of Lords. He was there among his equals, and Mignet's hearers felt, at the conclusion of his éloge," C'était Macaulay jugé par son pair.” From The Reader. eighteen degrees, and at the height of four and a quarter miles, the lowest temperature took place-viz., seventeen degrees. On de six degrees at the height of twenty-three thousand feet, and then to thirty-two degrees at the height of four miles; it then decreased nine degrees in one minute to twenty-three degrees. It continued at this value for some time, then increased slowly to twenty-nine degrees at nineteen thousand feet. It continued almost constant for a space of two thousand feet, then increased to thirty-two de MR. GLAISHER'S LAST BALLOON ASCENT. MR. GLAISHER has again been busy in midair; and his last ascent-not altogether un-scending, the temperature increased to twentyaccompanied by danger-must rank amongst the most interesting ones that have yet been made. The balloon this time started from Wolverton, a place made most convenient by the praiseworthy liberality and love for scientific progress shown by the Directors of the London and North Western Railway Company, and doubly interesting to Mr. Glaisher himself, as the energetic and intelligent population of the great factory estab-grees at fifteen thousand feet; and was thirtylished there, are, at this present time, pro- two degrees or thirty-three degrees, almost viding for themselves an Institute of Science without variation, during the snow-storm and Art, which promises to be a model of which we experienced from thirteen thousand such institutions for working men. Owing five hundred feet to ten thousand feet, where to somewhat boisterous weather at starting, an increase set in; at five thousand feet the and an insufficiency of gas, the usual quantity temperature was forty-one degrees, and sixtyof ballast was not taken up, a want after-six degrees on the ground. We reached some wards severely felt, as we shall see. clouds at 1h. 9m. At 1h. 16m. we saw a Mr. Glaisher's account of his observations runs as follows: "We left the earth at 1h. 3m. p.m.; at 1h. 9m. we were at the height of two thousand feet; at 1h. 15m. we passed above eight thousand feet; a height of eleven thousand feet was reached at 1h. 17m.; in nine minutes afterwards we were fifteen thousand feet from the earth, and rose gradually to about four and a quarter miles at 1h. 55m.; on descending at 2h. we were twenty thousand feet from the earth; at 2h. 13m. about fifteen thousand; at 2h. 17m. ten thousand; at 2h. 22m. five thousand; and on the ground 2h. 28m. Before starting, the temperature of the air was sixty-six degrees. It decreased rapidly on leaving the earth; it was fifty-four degrees at three thousand feet high, forty-nine degrees at four thousand feet, forty-one degrees at one mile, thirty degrees at two miles; and, up to this time, every succeeding reading was less than the preceding. But here the decrease was checked; and, while passing from two to three miles, the temperature at first increased to thirtytwo degrees, then decreased to twenty-nine degrees. A second increase followed, and at the height of three and a quarter miles the temperature was thirty-five degrees. A rapid decrease then set in, and at three and a half miles the temperature was twenty-two degrees. From this time till the height of four miles was reached, the temperature varied frequently between twenty-two degrees and very faint sun, and expected as usual its brilliancy would increase, and that we should soon break into a clear sky. At this time we heard the sighing of the wind, or rather moaning, as preceding a storm; and this continued for some time, and is the first instance on which either Mr. Coxwell or myself have heard such a sound at the height of two miles. It was not owing to any movement of the cordage above, but seemed to be below, as from couflicting currents beneath. At 1h. 17m. some fine rain fell. At 1h. 17 1-4m. we could just see a river; a few seconds after we entered a cloud. At 1h. 19m. we could just see the earth and the sun, but both very faintly. At 1h. 25m. we were again enveloped in dry fog. At 1h. 29m. there were faint gleams of light for a short time, and then all was closed up again. At 1h. 35m. the fog was wetting. At 1h. 37m. we entered dry fog. At 1h. 40m. the sun was just visible, but for the most part cut off by the balloon. At 1h. 41m. we were again in fog, which continued more or less prevalent till 1h. 53m., when we passed above four miles. At the highest point reached, about four and a quarter miles, the sky was very much covered with cirrus clouds; the sky, as seen between the clouds, was of a very faint blue, as seen from below through a very moist atmosphere. We were above clouds, but there were no fine views or forms;. us. all was confused and dirty-looking, no bright as from the earth, under the same circumshiny surfaces or anything picturesque, and stances. Owing to the thick atmosphere and the view was exceedingly limited, owing to large amount of vapor, Mr. Glaisher was unthe thick and murky atmosphere. At 2h. able to make any use of the camera kindly 3m. we lost even the faint sun and re-entered provided by Mr. Melhuish, with plates spefog, and experienced a decline of temperature cially prepared by Mr. Norris of Birmingof nine degrees in little more than a minute. ham. At 2h. 6m. there were faint gleams of light. Fog was both above and below, but none near At 2h. 7m. large drops of water fell from the balloon, covering my note-book; the next minute we were enveloped in fog, which became very thin at 2h. 14m. At 2h. 14 1-2m. rain was pattering on the balloon. This was shortly succeeded by snow, and for a space of four thousand feet we passed through a snow-storm. There were many spiculæ and cross spiculæ, with snow crystals, small in size, but distinct; there were few if any flakes. As we descended the snow seemed to rise above us." At 2h. 17m. the region of snow was passed, and the state of the lower atmosphere was observed to be most remarkable. Neither Mr. Coxwell nor Mr. Glaisher had ever seen it so murky; it was of a brownish-yellowish tinge, and remarkably dull. The sand was exhausted when they were still a mile from the earth. The balloonunder these circumstances simply a "falling body"-came to earth rather rapidly, and in the rough descent some of the instruments were broken; among others a new mercurial barometer, one foot less in length than the ordinary instruments, and intended only for observations at high altitudes. Mr. Glaisher took up Herschel's actinometer, and once only at four miles high got the sun to shine on it, during which time the reading increased nine divisions only in one minute, whilst on the ground Dr. Lee and himself, at eleven o'clock in the morning, had determined the increase of thirty-three divisions in one minute. This instrument he hopes to be able to use at great heights on future occasions. At the height of three miles a train was heard, and at four miles another. These heights are the greatest at which sounds have ever been detected, and indicate the generally moist state of the atmosphere. Before quite reaching the highest point, portions of the blue sky were examined with a small spectroscope-one of Jannsen's, we presume-procured from Paris, which could readily be used anywhere; and the spectrum was seen just Mr. Glaisher concludes: "This ascent must rank amongst the most extraordinary ever made. The results were most unexpected. We met with at least three distinct layers of cloud on ascending, of different thicknesses, reaching up to four miles high, when here the atmosphere, instead of being light and clear as it always has been in preceding ascents, was thick and misty; but perhaps the most extraordinary and unexpected result in the month of June was meeting with snow and crystals of ice in the atmosphere at the height of three miles, and of nearly one mile in thickness." From The Athenæum. MR. CHURCH'S "ICEBERGS." MR. CHURCH'S idea in the choice of subjects that each one shall present an impressive and suggestive incident in nature-is an excellent one. Independent of Art, there is in such subjects as the Falls of Niagara, the Heart of the Andes, and the work before us, enough to interest the student. To appreciate them as works of art we must separate their mere subjects from their execution, and not endow the artist or his picture with the glories of the theme, but give to him his proper honor alone. American landscape art promises to be a noble one when divested of tendencies to opacity and paintiness which, while they indicate the strength and health of a nascent and original school, prove that its professors have not yet mastered the whole of the mysteries of the color-box and the brush. At present Transatlantic landscape painting is materialistic; seeking its means of expression in translation of literal facts-poetic and grand in themselves, rather than in their mental associations. Mr. Church has been happy in choice of a subject for his latest picture; Niagara is hackneyed; the Heart of the Andes drew its interest from a knowledge of Nature not common amongst the people; but the floating |