way that a civilized being would eat a radish, and without any more previous preparation. They eat it raw; scales, bones, gills, and all the inside. The fish is held by the tail, and the head being introduced into the mouth, the animal disappears with a rapidity that would at first nearly lead

down the throat.

"Raw fish! Shall I ever forget my sensations when I first saw my island beauty devour one. Oh, heavens! Fayaway, how could you ever have contracted so vile a habit? However, after the first shock had subsided, the custom grew less odious in my eyes, and I soon accustomed myself to the sight. Let no one imagine, however, that the lovely Fayaway was in the habit of swallowing great vulgar-looking fishes: oh, no; with her beautiful small hand she would clasp a delicate, little, golden-hued love of a fish, and eat it as elegantly and as innocently as though it were a Naples

biscuit. But alas! it was after all a raw fish; and all I can say is, that Fayaway ate it in a more lady-like manner than any other girl of the valley.

"When at Rome do as the Romans do, I held to be so good a proverb, that being in Typee I made a point of doing as the Typees did. Thus I ate poee-poee as they did; I walked about in a garb striking for its simplicity; and I reposed on a community of couches; besides doing many other things in conformity with their peculiar habits; but the farthest I ever went in the way of conformity, was on several occasions to regale myself with raw fish. These being remarkably tender, and quite small, the undertaking was not so disagreeable in the main, and after a few trials I positively began to relish them: however, I subjected them to a slight operation with my knife previously to making my repast."

The appearance of the Typee people produced a deep and favorable impression on the mind of Mr. Melville. He considers them models of grace and beauty; the fair come in for a large share of his admiration, and in regard to them he makes some invidious comparisons which we commend to the notice of his

country women. He is also highly pleased with the freedom enjoyed by the natives. The Typee government is simple. A chief reigns supreme, and his commands are few and willingly obeyed. There are no rigorous laws, nor trouble

far superior to that which is the growth and creature of civilization and religion, Mr. Melville was in despair and rendered unhappy because he could not escape from this paradisaical valley. He could live without labor and be free from care, but he could not get rid of the idea that some fine morning he would be killed and cooked, after he had attained to that degree of obesity which is requisite in order to figure respectably on such an occasion. And therefore we find him makA small boat coming into the bay from ing his escape at the first opportunity. Nukuheva, he made his escape, aided by a friendly feeling on the part of some of the natives. This was not effected without a vigorous opposition on the part of others. Indeed, a fight ensued, and was in full progress on his account when he departed from their shores; and some savage fellows, stung no doubt by his folly and ingratitude at leaving so much happiness, both present and prospective, followed him a long way into the bay with frantic cries and threats of vengeance.

We take it for granted, as Mr. Melville has now reached home, that he is again duly sensible of the great hardships and evils of civilization, and that he will hasten his return to the society he has so cleverly described in these volumes. The charming Fayaway-the simple-hearted trustful maiden whom he left weeping on the lone island shoreno doubt waits his return with tearful eye and besides this allurement, a score of Typecan gourmands are also waiting, in the shade of lofty cocoa-trees, for their noon-day meal. How can Mr. Melville resist such temptations? If he does return, we can only express the hope, in the language of Sydney Smith to a Missionary friend on his departure for New Zealand, that he may not disagree with the stomach of the man that eats him.

stant and steady decline of prices of stocks. Political causes have, undoubtedly, a large share in this decline, but the apprehension of the effect of the general money concerns of England, of the large investments in railroads, is not without its influence; and therefore we propose to say a few words upon this topic. The assumption that the millions upon millions subscribed to railroads must operate to the derangement of the circulating medium, and consequently to the embarassment of general business, seems to us unfounded. While, indeed, the preliminary deposits are locked up, and until active operations are commenced, there might be some little pressure occasioned, because the amount was very considerable; but even that pressure seems to us to have been overrated-for the Accountant-General, into whose hands these deposits are paid, invested them in the public stocks, and of course liberated therefrom an amount of capital to become disposable for general purposes, equal to that invested.

As to the capital of these enterprises, when once commenced it is paid out almost as fast as paid in, and returned to general circulation-so that no derangement is thereby occasioned; and then, as a matter of fact, the investments in English railroads having thus far proved so profitable as to yield, upon an average, considerably over 4 per cent. per annum-the usual rate of interest-they must be looked upon as adding to, rather than abstracting from, the active commercial capital of the country.

On another point misapprehension prevails, as to the proportion between the real wealth of the country, and what is usually considered its circulating medium. Let us take the example of England. It is estimated, by statistical writers, that the "fee simple of the resources of the British empire is worth six thousand millions sterling-while the circulation of the Bank of England amounts to only twenty millions; so that the real and personal property held by British subjects is to the amount of Bank of England notes, as three hundred to one. In other words, for every five pounds represented by a Bank of Eng. land note, there are fourteen hundred and ninety-five pounds not so represented of bona fide property, consisting of lands, houses, ships, agricultural produce, and manufacturing stock belonging to the people of that realm." In this view, the

panic which occasionally arises because of a few millions variation in the supply of gold, or the amount of Bank note is sues, will seem remarkably disproportioned to the relation existing between such sums and the whole property of the kingdom.

From these and like considerations, it seems to us that the apprehension which did undoubtedly weigh over the London market at the last dates-though in a less degree than before-of the bad effects of the railroad investments, was unfounded, and soon will be ascertained so to be; and, as a consequence, we think any distrust here that money is to be any more scarce in London, is equally without foundation.

In our opinion, therefore, there is no reason to believe that difficulties in our money market are to be occasioned by scarcity or tightness of money in England; nor do we see-except in so far as uncertainty always operates unfavorably

anything in the present aspect of the political questions in agitation between the two countries, to cause sad difficulties. The recent message of the President in answer to a call of the Senate, does not vary our position, nor in any degree abate our confidence in an eventual peaceful arrangement. The utmost that can be made of that message is, that the Presi dent now avows openly what before was inculcated underhandedly and irresponsibly, but still publicly-that there is enough of doubt about our position, with respect both to England and Mexico, to authorize some precautionary measures of self-defence. If this had been as frankly said in the message at the commencement of the session, all would have approved it; as, indeed, all who knew anything of the defenceless state of the country, expected it. The ight of the thing is not altered by delay, nor is the expediency of the course recommended less obvious now than before-but yet the moment chosen is inopportune. Still we apprehend no evil from the message, and trust that the Committees of the Senate to which is intrusted the charge of military and naval affairs, will soon make a report, so that it may be seen what amount of appropriations, and what extent of armament, are contemplated. The revenues now accruing are insufficient for any considerable increase of expenditure, and if such increase is to be encountered, loans or direct taxes must at once be resorted to for the means. The latter

love, hate, seraphic rapture, unutterable crime and anguish, to which his own experience is entirely a stranger. In addition to this natural cast of intellect and temperament, his course of life may have thrown him much more into connection with man than with physical Nature. In accordance with those circumstances is the character of his thoughts and writings. The valley-loving streams, and foaming currents seen among wild mountain passes, are of less thrilling interest to him than the rivers of passion that rush through the hearts of men. The crags that beetle above them, visited only by the birds of strongest wing, seem less sublime than those vast spiritual heights, from which the eagles of the mind survey their dominions. Nor is the sea filled with storm and motion, or its tranquil immensity with a clear sky bending above, so mighty to him as the tempestuous depths of the human soul, or its calm boundlessness when the Deity has looked upon it. Even the mere forms and relations of social life, the shell-like fabric of society, engages his intensest interest, gives rise to some of his most powerful strains, because through them the action of humanity makes itself manifest.

Still a third, together with some sensibility to physical influences, some sympathy with the present conditions of human existence, has by nature a contemplative turn, an excursive, acute and philosophical mind. Had he these qualities alone, or to the mastery of his currents of thought, he would be merely a philosopher, a metaphysician. But if he possesses also the former to some degree sufficient to color his moods of mind-if, especially, he has imagination enough to add wings and brightness to the wide excursions of his intellecthe becomes, not the port of outward Nature, not the plaintive or scornful versifier of the joys and sufferings of humanity, but the daring and powerful inquirer, treading ever on the brink of speculation. He is too clear-sighted to stop satisfied with admiring the universe of things external and material, too strong-souled to be absorbed by the changes of human life. Nature, so called, is to him but a vast hieroglyphic tabernacle; the present lives of men with their griefs and joys, but the playing of puzzled children among its mighty niches and columns. He sees, or thinks that he sees, the world

and the existence beyond-themes that attract him the more because lying in doubt. Continually, as with Young, his "Thoughts start up and o'er Life's narrow verge

Look down-on what ?"

Like Milton's Lucifer, gazing, from the threshold of Hell, into the "waste void " -Space, Blackness and Chaos-he "Stands on the brink and looks awhile, Pondering his voyage;"

but, while the mere Reasoner shrinks back appalled from the "inane gulf" and the darkness unutterable," his imagination seems to project a light before him, down into the abyss,and he launches fearlessly out over the shoreless night,

because of his

"Murmuring bark of Verse."

Thus it is seen, that the three great departments of Nature-that is, of the subjects of human thought-may furnish each a true poet on its own peculiar field. There is yet another sphere which a single faculty of the mind creates, as it were, for itself. It forms no part of Nature, since, by a process the most subtil in our being, it is caught, evolved and combined from all possible subjects of thought and the spirit that "rolls through all things”—in other words from the entire realm, at once, of whatever, material or spiritual, we have represented Nature as possessing. But as the imagi. nation in some degree is necessary to the poet working in any capacity, so that greatest of faculties may so preponderate, overpowering all other qualities of mind and heart, as to make for itself a kind of separate world-a realm of forms and formless shadows, impossible visions, cold and glittering images that shall be like, yet strangely unlike, all those things, familiar to our thought and sense, of which they are combined. Carried to its height, indeed, this state of the mind becomes insanity-which cannot be judged to be a condition of Nature, or at least only of Nature distorted. Still, to this sphere of unrealities short of insaneness, the poet may so surrender himself as to belong rather to it than to any recognized part of the universe of thought or

matter.

Now it is among the strangest of the many strange things in letters, that poets working in these separate spheres, each under the bent of his own genius and way of life, should not only have no liking or appreciation for their compeers,

but should often deny to each other the name of poet. What the authors do, their respective admirers among critics are usually found adopting-denying all attributes of the true poet to any except the school of their favorites. The latter is not altogether to be wondered at, since partisans commonly go farther than their leaders. And yet that those pretending to be critics should not have a broader appreciation, a deeper insight into the elements of all excellence in all the fields their feeling, if not their knowledge, of human effort-especially that, where should be as universal as the air, the field of poetry! The world has produced but one man, who, as a poet, has trod all the departments of Nature, of which we have spoken, with an equal step and an eye catching equally all appearances and relations whatever. The name of Shakspeare has been connected too often with this assertion to be dwelt upon here. His was the heart, the mind, the soul. He is not more a poet in one aspect than in any other. A few, as Homer, Eschylus, Dante, Milton, Göthe, with, perhaps, two or three more, have in some qualities achieved the highest possible triumphs, without greatly failing in any one. All the rest will be found to have mainly united some two of the departments of Nature, or (more rarely) to have confined themselves exclusively to one. Wordsworth is a remarkable example of the union of the most profound love and appreciation of external Nature with an elevated, calm, and tender philosophy, at times approaching to the Platonic eloquence, and sounding with an extraordinary feeling of wisdom the mysteries of humanity. But he had, with these, an imagination heavy and inert-circling on a level, rarely soaring-and a most diluted perception of the power of human passions. Is Lord Byron, then, who in imagination has four times his energy of wing, an appreciation of Nature more absorbingly vivid, though hardly as wide or minute, and a power, both of passion in himself and of its representation in others, to which no one of his great contemporaries, unless Shelley, could make any approach—is he and his admirers to ridicule a

"Clumsy frowsy poem, The Excursion," " or set down its author merely as one who "Shows

That prose is verse and verse is only prose."

His lordship, on the other hand, exhib

House divided, and resolved, by a vote of three hundred and thirty-seven against two hundred and forty, to go into committee on the Customs and Corn Importation Act at once, rather than postpone its consideration for six months, as proposed by the rejected amendment of Mr. Miles. This vote settles the question, so far as the Commons are concerned, and will not be without its influence on the House of Lords. The truth is, the time has come, when the abolition of protective duties on articles of food, which the people of Great Britain require for their sustenance, must be abolished. In the course he has pursued, the Premier has only obeyed the dictates of that substantial and sovereign public sentiment which no statesman, in a country which has in its constitution so many popular elements as England, can safely disregard. Had he not preferred to lead it, he must inevitably have been crushed by it. The policy he has pursued will almost certainly be adopted by Parliament, and approved by the people. At a subsequent setting, a motion of Mr. Villiers, to make the abolition of duties immediate, instead of gradual, was rejected by a still larger majority-the vote standing, Ayes 78, Noes 265.

The most stirring news comes from INDIA. The British arms, in their career of indefinite Asiatic conquest, apparently as limitless as Alexander's ambition, have achieved a victory over the Seikhs, the inhabitants of the Punjaub, remarkable at once for its brilliancy, importance, and the blood which it cost. For several months a very large British force has been concentrated upon the frontier of the territory of the Seikhs, for the alleged purpose of checking any anarchy, by which the peace of the British dominions might be threatened. The army of the Seikhs likewise moved toward the Sutlej, and from the 11th to the 14th of December last, made the passage of that river, and threatened the advanced posts of the British army, with some 80,000 fighting-men and about one hundred and fifty pieces of artillery, "of the largest calibre movable in the field, and exquisitely finished-an artillery immeasurably more powerful than was ever brought into the field by Wellington or Napoleon." Sir Henry Hardinge, the Governor-General, and Sir Hugh Gough, Commander-in-chief, immediately hastened to repel them. By forced marches, a part of their force came up in time, and the men, parched with thirst and sinking with fatigue, were led, at once, against the foe. A doubtful success on the 18th, was followed by a suspension of hostilities until the 21st and 22d, when was waged a most severe and remarkable contest. The force of the Seikhs is stated at 60,000, with a hundred guns, and strongly intrenched.

The British had about one-third that number, with few guns, and those light. They attacked the enemy, forced them from their guns, with immense carnage, and finally, after a protracted and most bloody struggle, drove them entirely from the field. Even according to the British official reports, they lost about 4,000 of their soldiers in this engagement, and many of their ablest and most gallant officers, of whom Sir Robert Sale was one.

This is undoubtedly but the opening of the campaign; and if the British troops meet so firm and so fatal a resistance at each step of their progress as that which marked the commencement of the war, the conquest of the Punjaub, and its annexation to the British dominions, will not be speedily or cheaply accomplished. That it has been resolved upon, is officially declared, in a proclamation recently issued by the Governor-General.

No action or debate has been had in Parliament on American affairs, nor do the public journals contain anything of especial interest to this country. The propo sition, to which we have before alluded, of transmuting the Republic of Mexico into a Monarchy, and seating upon the throne a Bourbon prince, of the Spanish branch, is actively canvassed by the semi-official papers of London, Paris and Madrid. All agree upon the feasibility of the scheme, and upon its importance, as affording the only means of checking the rapid and threatening aggrandizement of the American Union. Whether the Governments of England, France and Spain are in any way connected with this intrigue, can, of course, only be a matter of conjecture. But the favor with which the project is received, the zeal with which it is urged, and the peculiar motive which is avowed by its leading advocates, are well calculated to attract the attention, and excite the curiosity of the people of this country. The first step towards its accomplishment must, of course, be to secure the acquiescence of the Mexicans themselves, as without that nothing can be done; and in connection with this point, the fact is not unimportant, that a new paper has been recently established in Mexico, for the express purpose of advocating such a change. Thus far, however, it has not been received with any indications of public favor.

In the literary world we hear of no startling novelties. Publishers are enforced to suspend operations until the intense political excitement shall have passed away, and the public shall be again at liberty to read. A very good collection of the Miscellanies of SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH has been made by one of his sons, and is issued in three octavo volumes. The first part of Bell's Life of CANNING has been published. Without being a biography of any extraor