note, dated 30th Sept., 1854, in reply to the Prussian circular, Austria distinctly denies such a claim.

"We never," says the Austrian circular, "ascribed to ourselves a right to separate the Principalities from the territory which is accessible for warlike operations, nor are we in a position to claim such a right.'

In this circular Austria distinctly states that she relinquishes the hope of acting in common with Prussia at Frankfort, and reserves to herself the right of making propositions alone and separately at Frankfort, or to wait till the German governments shall find it suitable to join the deliberations in the Federal Diet on the Eastern question. The reply of Austria was also communicated to the States of the Confederation, accompanied by official declarations which, in explaining the situation of the moment, and the line of conduct Austria proposes to follow, do not leave the slightest doubt that Austria regards a war as imminent, and is ready to run its risks. She demands that the German Confederation, by adopting the four points formulated by the exchange of notes of 8th August, shall declare the occupation of the Danubian Principalities by Austrian troops conformable to the interests of Germany; and that, in virtue of the treaty of 20th April, it shall bind itself to assist Austria in case of attack, be that attack directed against the Austrian territory or against the Austrian troops in the Principalities.

The Austrian circular gave great offence to the Court of Berlin, which was increased by a note dated Oct. 1st, in which Austria sharply censures Prussia for her want of sincerity to the entente.

The Prussian reply to these two documents has just been issued. A rupture has, in fact, taken place between Austria and Prussia. We can only repeat with Lord Clarendon, that that Power which leans to Russia will transfer all the popular sympathies to the Power which does not do so; and to the hands of that Power will be committed the future destinies of Germany.

As a warning to Prussia, we will repeat the ever-memorable words of her own late minister of war, General Bonin ::

"Co-operation with Russia, under existing circumstances," said the General," may be set down amidst impossibilities. The union of Prussia and Russia would convert Germany into a theatre of war, with all its fearful consequences. He who feels a spark of Prussian or German love of country cannot harbour such a thought; but ancient lawgivers," continued the brave old man, "omitted to include parricide in their penal code, because they held so unnatural a crime impossible; even so must a union of Prussia with Russia be regarded as totally unworthy of consideration, since such union would have for Germany all the character of MURDER."

Germany is on the eve of a great crisis. Let come what may, England and France united will defy the world.

* Vide Austrian Circular of 30th Sept., 1854.

+ It is dated Berlin, 13th Oct.

HOW WE BLOCKADED ATHENS.

BY EDWARD WILBERFORCE, LATE OF H. M. NAVY.

SINCE public attention is now turned to the East, and as the contemptible kingdom of Greece is especially obtruding itself on our observation, the moment is not inopportune for referring to an event that took place some four years ago, and the absurdity of which is wellnigh unparalleled in the annals of war. I allude to the blockade of Athens, as effected by the Mediterranean fleet in 1850.

In the month of January, that squadron, consisting of seven line-ofbattle ships, viz., H. M. ships Queen, Howe, Caledonia, Powerful, Vengeance, Bellerophon, and Ganges, together with various steamers, anchored in the bay of Salamis. Frowning down upon us where we anchored, was that singular break in

"the rocky brow

That looks on seagirt Salamis,"

known by the name of Xerxes' Seat. Remembering Byron's lines descriptive of the Persian armament that was drawn up in this very bay, we might justly suppose that our best bowers fell among bones and the relics of galleys and triremes. The usual course, "Duty first and pleasure afterwards," was, in our case, reversed, for we were permitted to commence our stay by a hasty view of Athens, and to postpone for a short time the impending hostilities. The duty of a faithful historian renders it necessary that I should convey the reader to Athens before I recount the events of the blockade.

The lamentable absurdity produced by the juxtaposition of the two towns of Athens, ancient and modern, is vividly depicted in the following extract from "Mr. Snigsby's Yacht," with which tale the readers of this magazine are already acquainted. Mr. Hannay will pardon me if I quote a few lines:-"The modern inhabitants of Athens, perched as they are beside the ruins, irresistibly suggest to one a camp of gipsies among the remains of Stonehenge. The contrast is just about as great, and the relation of modern to ancient there quite as respectable; or, if you prefer a commercial illustration, I would compare the town to an insolvent establishment into which Europe has put King Otho, as a kind of 'man in possession.' There is a sort of tawdry, semi-Turkish, semi-French seediness about those narrow streets, which inspires one with profound melancholy and disgust."

For my part, I had associated the name of Athens with antiquity. Temples, public buildings falling to ruin, each connected with some classical recollection, would be congenial to the mind; but to meet with a provincial town at Athens under the cover of the Acropolis, like a pig in St. Paul's, was utter desecration.

We, who had leave, left the Howe in our barge, and shot into the Pindus, passing between these two old pillars at the entrance, and finding ourselves in a miniature Valetta. There lay all the merchant vessels we had so often seen in Malta harbour, with their crews of redcapped loquacious seamen, their exteriors dirty enough in all conscience,

yet surpassed by their interior parts in that chief peculiarity. Landing in front of a thoroughly English grogshop, placed as near the shore as possible for the purpose of attracting sailors, we found a row of cabs waiting to convey us to Athens. Their drivers sustained to perfection the character of both Greeks and cabmen. Both these races aim at one mark, both devote all their energies to cheating. If, then, Greeks and cabmen can cheat separately, how much more will they do so when combined? And, on the present occasion, they had very promising candidates for imposition. Midshipmen who had landed with a few sovereigns that must be spent on this trip, were not disposed to "haggle" or adopt the London method of making a bargain beforehand. They got into the cabs resignedly, and would infallibly have been cheated but for the interposition of a providentially-appointed lieutenant.

"What are you going to pay?" asked he of every company.

"Two dollars each passenger," answered the villanous cabmen. As each cab contained at least five passengers, the sum total would have been considerable.

"Not a bit of it! Two drachmas is the fare for the whole cab, or not more than one dollar at all events!" A drachma is about eightpence in value.

Rather discontented, the drivers cracked their whips, "and away, away, away!" The first stoppage was at the halfway inn, lying in the shade of an olive grove. Our cabman sprang at once from his perch, and proceeded to moisten his clay, like a fine old English coachman of the olden time. The windows of this hotel were filled with bottles of syrups, with colours bright, flaring, and gaudy as the sticks of daubed sweetmeats in a grocer's window. In fact, everything modern at Athens is on a level with the products of our lowest provincial towns. The place would realize a schoolboy's dream, when the nightmare of Greek, Latin, and lollipops visited his pillow. Then he might see ruins of classical art and learning placed in close propinquity to shopwindows stuffed with unwholesome dainties. Again we moved on, and alighted at the Hotel l'Europe, or some French hotel bearing a name of the like import. (I postpone for the present any allusion to the antiquities, as the Temple of Theseus does not harmonise well with the Hotel l'Europe.) Out rushed my comrades to ask for beds and dinners both more important than ruins.

"Avai vou day lees?" asked they perseveringly of the French landlady.

"Lees!" said a Scotchman with a chuckle. Methinks ye'll get plenty of them in Athens!"

"Lees d'ye want?

When these necessary matters were transacted we sallied forth to lounge over and lazily inspect the antiquities. The Acropolis was locked up, and we had to seek out the keeper of the key. Such a precaution seems absurd and unneceesary. I would it were. If some such measures were not taken, Athens would soon be denuded of all the relics she possesses, and the choicest works of ancient art would adorn some cockney's mantel-piece. Even now no person is allowed to wander among the ruins unattended, and the greatest care is taken lest some unobserved traveller should pocket a statue's nose.

On

In front of the columns of the Parthenon, one of the first objects that met our eyes was a souvenir of the Turkish war, an old cannon shot. It lay there, a rusty testimony to the fallen condition of Athens. the pillar at whose base it reposed, it had left a mark: the autograph of a Turkish gunner inscribed ineffaceably on the columns of the Parthenon. More easily effaced were the inscriptions around. John Brown, Charles Smith, and William Robinson figured extensively in paint, pencil, or steel, while their countrymen had not hesitated to express their sentiments freely, and brand the writers with opprobrious epithets. Inside the Parthenon, in a dark corner, we found a doorway, and, passing through it, discovered a flight of steps that led to the summit. Here we stood for a while gazing on the magnificent prospect of land and sea, turning from the calm, unbounded ocean to look on Hymettus and Peuleticus, and from them to the Island of Salamis. And then the silence was broken, thus :

"Ladies and gentlemen, unaccustomed as I am to public speaking," and so on to the end of the usual formula. Thus spoke a lieutenant, whom, no doubt, the summit of a Grecian temple reminded of a country meeting. Of course this train of conversation was eagerly caught up and carried on by others.

"What language do the people speak here?" asked one.

"Italian, I suppose."

"Well, they've not forgotten Greek, anyhow. For I saw a board stuck up near the hotel with this inscription on it: Ομνιβος τρέχει προς πειραιαν πασαν ημεραν.”

66

They have some decentish hotels here, though."

"Yes, and some tolerable wine. I went to a place and asked for something to drink. Blessed if they didn't bring me some yellow stuff. 'Deuce is that?' said I. 'Samian wine,' said the waiter. 'D-n Samian wine,' said I, 'bring me some sherry!'

Abler pens than mine have commented on the ruins of Athens, and abler authors have described the various temples in detail. A person's impressions of these ruins must be rendered melancholy by the vulgarisms of his travelled countrymen, and we are inclined to wish that the usher, who flogged Sterne for inscribing his name in a conspicuous part of the schoolroom, might be here to punish all name-scribbling cock

neys.

But strange sights were to be witnessed in the modern town. It was quite a novelty to meet with a large, flat, white building, like a barn, where a Dissenting minister might revel in eloquence, and be told that was King Otho's palace. The architect had evidently an eye to the beauty arising from contrast. From an intense appreciation of the beauties of the Acropolis, he placed near them a building that could not pretend to any emulation. It was a novelty to meet with a bookseller's shop in Athens, with goods and shopmen of a genuine English appearance. We also found shops with pipestems and sticks of various woods: cherry, blackthorn, and white wood, inlaid with strange and quaint devices, though not so recherché in manufacture and beauty as those of Malta or Constantinople. In other shops we found slabs of marble bearing different views of the Acropolis, the Temple of Theseus

or the Pillars of Jupiter Olympus, and tablets, or books, wrought from the stone of ancient cities. After rambling about the town, we dined at a French hotel. One of the principal ingredients of the feast was Samian wine, on which subject I may be allowed to dilate, since it has called forth such strifes of opinions. One party calls it nectar and ambrosia. These people write glowing books of poetical ravings about the East, and the Isles of Greece, and who praise Samian wine because it comes from the "land of glorious lays," and because Byron wrote about it. Such a traveller was Hans Andersen, whose "Poet's Bazaar" contains some of the most trashy goods ever offered for sale. He bursts into a rhapsody whenever he sees a Greek, and gives alms to beggars, "because they were Greeks," that is, because they wore Grecian dresses, and were probably exiled Maltese, who, having cheated all the people in their own island, came to make an easy prey of enthusiastic poets in a foreign land. But if Hans Andersen is so affected by the sight of beggars, what says he to the first view of Greece? He stands on the paddle-box of the steamer that bears him, and shouts out :

"I see shining air! I see waves like fleece,

And the mountain coast yonder's the coast of Greece!"

He must be a wonderful poet if he can see air! But I am digressing from Samian wine. Another party goes to the opposite extreme. Thackeray inclines to this opinion, and some who sneer at everything ancient, and some who sneer at all Byron wrote. In my humble opinion, both parties are decidedly mistaken. Samian wine is very tolerable stuff, and its flavour is improved by the addition of a little water. Moreover, the genius loci should have some influence on your mind, and if you can't drink the wine, you must e'en make a libation. The pleasure of this short trip naturally enough served only as a whet to our appetites. But an officer in her Majesty's service finds duty always dogging his steps, and ever ready to spring upon him. A report ran through the squadron next day, that our affairs as regarded Athens were in an unsatisfactory state, and that the negotiations entered into by the captains of the different men-of-war were unsuccessful. This rumour was confirmed by a general stoppage of leave, and it was soon discovered that Athens was in a state of blockade. The first step taken was, of course, to stop all intercourse, save so much as was absolutely necessary, between the shore and the blockading squadron. The second step was to take captive all the Greek merchant ships in the Piræus, and as many men-of-war as we could lay hold of. For this purpose, some steamers were despatched to sea, and boats sent into the Piræus. One by one the prizes appeared. First came a lumbering barque, with two or three boats towing a-head, moving slowly and with much apparent unwillingness. Then came brigs and schooners, concerning which the middies of the fleet made bets and speculations. Which were our prizes? Was that barque the Vengeance's prize? Who would be our prize-masters? Jones would bet that Smith got that brig; would'nt it be a lark for Smith, just? The prizes increased by rapid degrees, and the monotonous succession of brigs to barques, schooners to brigs, was broken by the