in a strange and unaccountable way. I feared cepted by Consciousness as belonging to the to pass it. I become possessed of the idea identy of its being. The house I speak of it was by some means or other to be con- wears a sombre and mysterious air. I often nected with my fate. I had never before see it, and have since frequently passed near been at Birmingham; but I was positive I it, but never have been able to bring myself had previously scen this house. I felt as- to approach it. My reason discredits the sured I was able to find my way through its superstition; but the feeling is so deeply rooms and passages-draw, without enter-rooted in my mind, that all the wealth of all ing, the plan of its interior-make an inven- the treasuries of Europe would not induce tory of its books and furniture, and other-me voluntarily to enter.

wise describe its contents, with as much Such are some of the sensations to which accuracy as if I had been familiar with it from childhood. This impression had all the weight of certainty to my mind. Moreover, the belief that it boded ill to me became deeply rooted in my imagination, and I feared to approach it. But this apprehension did not arise simultaneously with the idea of having seen the house before; neither was it inherent in that idea, but deduced therefrom by me. Nevertheless, the impression I received was of a character to justify the rendering I gave it. It was an impression that conveyed an intimation of some future danger; but when, or from what, or in what way, was not apparent. Fear suggested the interpretation, and my mind was predisposed to accept it. I was constrained to turn back!

I am subject. I may here be permitted to state, that I am conscious of no bodily or mental disorder: I suffer from no organic disease, nor am I laboring under any temporary functional derangement. Whence, then, do these sensations arise? No discovered law of the human mind can adequately account for them; neither that of Contiguity, nor that other of Constructive Association, will avail us; other causes must be sought. I am no believer in the Supernatural; that is, in the possibility of anything occurring out of the order of Nature. But-in reply to that large class, the "matter-of-fact" philosophers, who will assume the whole to be a delusion, "breaking in upon the laws of Nature, which are uniform, invariable," etc., -I would ask, What are these laws? How There is too, here, in London, a house do you know when they are broken in upon P which has the same effect upon me as did You should, first of all, discover the whole that at Birmingham. It is in the neighbor- of those laws, before you can, with truth, hood of Leicester Square-large, gloomy, say what is and what is not a law; and this and retiring. On the day I saw it first, I is plainly not in your power. Besides, it is was sensible of a kind of precognition. The possible we may-and in reality we do—obinstant I beheld the object, I become con- serve effects, the causes of which lie necesscious of experiencing a repetition of some sarily beyond the sphere of our observation previous impression. I strove to recollect to discover. To discriminate the real from the occasion, but failed: the impression was the false is not always so easily accomplished too vague and fleeting. I could not, that is as "matter-of-fact" philosophers imagine. to say, recall to my mind the distinct points I will take leave to ask them one question: in time and place wherein and whereat it Time and Space-what are they? Are they originally occurred. At length, I was irre-real-or are they nonentities, having no absistibly forced to the conclusion that the solute existence apart from our own Conseemingly long interval which had elapsed sciousness? We know there is One who is between the antecedent impression and the not affected by them, and to whom a thoupresent, was altogether imaginary-that, in sand years are as one day, and one day as reality, both were contemporaneous; and, a thousand years. Are we not told also, that that the time which seemed to have passed "in Him we live, and move, and have our was purely a fiction of the mind-created at being "? the moment the object first appeared, and ac

X.

From The Examiner.

THE general opinion undoubtedly is that the Government dares not yield, but we still cherish the hope that when the attitude of this country is seen, with its powerful fleet ready for prompt action in the American waters, the fleeting wrath of a mob will seem a less danger to brave than a war with England, with its tremendous consequences present and future. It would probably be followed by the secession of the NorthWestern States, as much interested in supplying us with food as the South with cotton. And this would be the beginning of the end of the Northern Republic.

But supposing reparation to be made for the Trent outrage, and the prisoners to be restored safe from Lynch Law, which seems too natural a sequence to Wilkes Law, will it not be for the powers of Europe to consider whether the measures the North is taking against the South are consistent with the interests of civilization? Is it to be endured that the Federal Government shall eke out the inefficacy of its blockade by the detestable means described in this malignant passage respecting the fleet of vessels laden with stone to be sunk to choke up Southern ports ?

in a petrified death-in-life, to point a moral or adorn a tale.'"-New York Times.

Will the civilized Christian world suffer a warfare carried to this fiendish pitch of destructiveness, choking up forever nature's channels of life, intercourse, and plenty? A blockade is an injurious interference with the business of nations, but it is temporary, and when the purpose is effected, or abandoned as impracticable, there is a return to the status quo ante; but this infernal expedient of the channel-choking is resorted to as permanently destructive, depriving a whole region of one of its natural outlets of production, and ruining its cities more effectually than by fire and sword, whose ravages may be repaired, not so those of this hellish device of malice, according to the calculation of its authors. Rivers are the highways of the world, and to destroy one of these means of communication is an injury to all, which should not be permitted to the malice of any power.

From The Spectator.

ENGLAND is waiting still, the Government providing against the worst contingency, and the people coldly resolved, whatever the cost, "The main ship channel leading to Sa- to maintain the national honor and internavannah is but two hundred and fifty yards tional law. There are no signs of impatience across in the narrowest place, and can be or anger or exultation; the press discusses perfectly barred by half a dozen of these the chances without concealing the points on vessels. Charleston harbor is equally eligi- which we may be allowed to be weak, and ble to the same treatment. Once sunk, these public speakers, without an exception, are old hulks become points for the accumulation of alluvials which the rivers bear down, and grave, regretful, and firm. The precise feelof the sands which the tides carry back. ing was, perhaps, most exactly expressed by There is a natural tendency in such ports to Mr. Frederick Peel, who, on Thursday, told form obstructions, and all we have to do is, the people of Bury, that if the American as the physicians say, to assist nature.' Government were reasonable, England should Becoming thoroughly imbedded in the sand, hear their reasons, but if they, acknowledg these accumulations but advance with time, ing the wrong, still refused redress, she would forming unconquerable obstacles to re-open-maintain her right, which was also the coming the harbors, and establishing a blockade which the highest pressure diplomacy of the mon right of civilized powers. Mr. Horsworld will be utterly powerless to raise.' man, at Stroud, though his speech was most It must be confessed there is something self-contradictory in argument, laid down wonderfully gratifying in this silent, resist- the same principle, and Mr. Fitzgerald, while less piece of Rhadamanthean justice. The calmness of the method is fine, and a chefd'œuvre in its way; no vulgar theatrical vengeance, no laying of the city in ashes, as those heated braggarts of Charleston threatened, but a silent blight falling on them as though out of the night-deadly, inevitable-and leaving those perfidious cities

promising the support of the Tories, if necessary, still hoped for reasonable concessions. At Guilford, men of all parties exhibited a similar spirit of calm decision. Mr. Briscoe (Liberal) would rejoice if the Washington Cabinet disavowed Captain Wilkes, and Mr. G. Cubitt (Tory) "hoped for the best though

can only mourn. But if we take up this po sition through any undue sensitiveness and pique of our own, we shall stain the name of England with responsibility for a political evil deeper and more hideous than any with which Warren Hastings ever loaded her.

And now, when every mail brings proof that the cause of true liberty is gaining head in the North, that they wish to fight for human freedom and not merely for the Fed

he was prepared for the worst," while even Mr. Onslow, who lately confessed himself a delegate, that worst form of Radicalism, though he detested war, would "not calmly stand by and see the Government submit to an intentional insult." This tone is universal, and our only fear is lest the utter absence of clamor, the steadfast reliance on the courage of governing men, should be mistaken by Mr. Seward, as it has been by the London American, for dread of war. Military preparations continue uninter-eral Government and its empire, we are in rupted. The dockyards and arsenals are in danger of being drawn by a cruel necessity full activity, and Armstrong guns have al- into the cause of the South. No doubt, at ready been shipped for Canada. A corps present, it is the cause to which intellectual d'armée, numbering twelve thousand men, men incline. It has statesmen, it has a with batteries, commissariat, and military strength and a dignity of its own; its fortrain complete, are under orders, and will sail this week, whatever the American reply. Canada, with Mr. Seward in power, can no longer be left defenceless, and means have been provided to arm all volunteers whom the danger to the colony is sure to bring to the front. Invention is of course at work, and all the sledges sent are fitted with a new axle, by which the breadth between the wheels can be widened or contracted to fit any width of rut. The only arm not employed is cavalry, English troop horses being too thin-skinned to face a Canadian winter.

While England is waiting with as much misgiving as hope for the decision to know from the United States, whether she is or is not to become the involuntary ally of slavery, the great conflicting causes there engaged are gradually developing that sharpness of outline and precision of character which mark the maturer stages of every real battle of principle. The principles on both sides are casting away those accidental adhesions which have perplexed half-observant, and deceived unobservant eyes, and revealing their essential character. It is well, while we wait our own issue, to fix them distinctly in our minds, for though we see no escape from the impending war if the American Government proves irritable and obstinate, yet should it exhibit any really cordial and bona fide wish to give us ungrudgingly our full rights, we should deem it not only a great disaster, but a national sin to refuse such If our national duty compels us to be the involuntary ally of the South, we

overtures.

eign policy will probably be far cooler and more respectable than that of the competing democracy. In short, it will be nothing if not a government. But we may be in dan ger of forgetting that all these things form after all but the shell of political life. What is the inward principle which the machinery of government subserves? That is the test ing question. If both the hostile causes des velop as rapidly as they have recently done, we can answer it in a word. The whole end and aim of the Southern Government will be to strengthen the guard over slavery and the menial white class, in doing which they may long show a very dignified and respectable side to the outer world. The end and aim of the Northern Government will be to strengthen liberty, in doing which they may long show a very vulgar and undignified as pect to the outer world. But which of the two will England prefer, if there be any choice left her by grace of the Northern statesmen ?

Paris Correspondence of the London Review. Of course people here think a great deal of the Anglo-American question, though not perhaps so much as you do in England, but the tone in which it is spoken of is altering rapidly. The first frenzy of love and affec tion for us, which was shown by the "inspired " journals, is considerably abated, and has given place to a somewhat different sort of language; and, perhaps, the whole matter may not be very hard to explain: the Emperor Napoleon-as I have labored to convince

you-cannot now afford to govern, save ac- | mediate interest. The thing to note for us

66

is, the unmistakable feeling of hostility raised up at once against us throughout this country-a feeling which surprises no one who has a thorough acquaintance with the Frenchmen of the Second Empire, but which is not the less curious to observe. It would be worse than folly, it would be the height of wilful blindness in us, to shut our eyes to what is looming in the distance; and it is quite evident to those who in any way come in contact with the nations of the Continent, that upon our attitude just now will depend much of the prestige with which we shall be surrounded when the hour for action arrives.

cording to the wishes of the large majority of France. A French policy must now be his. Well, he has, upon the American complication, tried what he so often tries in similar conjectures; namely, to see which way the wind blows here; and for that purpose, the Patrie was instructed to hint at a possible "co-operation!" and I have the best reason for believing that the Emperor himself gave it to be understood that he was anxious to co-operate" with England against America. But his scheme of testing opinion answered as usual-what might be called the voice of France responded with extraordinary unanimity to the challenge; and from the Journal des Débats downwards, the same sentiment has been expressed in different words by nearly every newspaper, in town and country: "Leave England to her embarrassment!" That is the sentiment, absurd and mistaken as it is, which nent. This is the point to look at steadily, animates all France. One thing is made clear by this, and that is, that Louis Napoleon will not get anything out of Frenchmen for a "combined action " with us. Yet "get something out" of France (and something very considerable, too) he must soon, and the means for so doing must be devised in the end, for the position is a disastrous one, and will not right itself all alone.

"Will peace or will war best help us out of this?" That is the question men ask each other just now in high Imperialist circles, and there is more than a doubt as to the answer. The only measure of the Emperor's hesitation in all this, will be the extent of his hope or of his despair. As long as he can play any other card he will not play the war-card, but that card is nevertheless his last. Of that no one of any party in France has the shadow of a doubt. Whether the time has already come for playing the last card-for risking all upon one grand supreme chance events will teach. For the moment, I fancy perfect neutrality will be the line adopted, and for a time it will be genuinely adhered to. France will keenly and narrowly watch the incidents of the coming conflict (if unluckily it should come), and she will shape her course according to what she believes to be her own im

The great and really all but inconceivable mistake made about us throughout France is that we should be so " embarrassed" by a war with America that we should be obliged to look on tamely at whatever France might choose to do on the European conti

for this is the source of all French opinions and delusions about us, and it is this that will be the cause of whatever faults may be later committed by the Imperial Government. No man in France-not even Louis Napoleon

is able to master that peculiarity of our national temperament, and to comprehend that we should never be so difficult to trifle with, as when adverse fate should have willed that our "hand should be in" at the work of fighting; that a nation may be so great and so powerful as to need no bragging, as to feel compassionately towards weaker rivals, and as to attempt no outward seeming of force. This will enter into no French mind, neither will it be conceived that a people who can do the "greater" may be careless of achieving the "less." I never at any period (unless during the Crimean war) so thoroughly and clearly saw to what a degree France was incapable of comprehending England. And I again say, upon this perfect failure to understand what we are, and what, in certain cases, we should do, will be founded some of the most extraor dinary mistakes of conduct. Therefore it behooves us to note distinctly every shade of the opinion which Frenchmen entertain of us just now.