It is estimated that, under better arrangements, the total expenses of an interment, including undertaker's charges and cemetery dues, in the case of the gentry, would not exceed £38 10s. for adults, £14 for children; of first class-tradesmen, £16 10s. for adults, and £6 5s. for children; of artisans, £210s. for adults, £1 8s. for children; of paupers, 13s.; and that a saving of £374,743 per annum might be effected in the metropolis sued in 1595, during the Plague, when the these associations. Of these tranquillizing and ministers of the Church and certain house- elevating influences, so constantly refreshed and holders were enjoined to view the bodies of renewed, the inhabitants of large cities are of the dead before they were buried. The Re- necessity deprived. The churchyard. often very port proposes to convert the present almost former interments, either carelessly scattered small, always full, and crowded with remains of nominal and useless parochial searchers into about, or but ill concealed, is in some cases a efficient officers of health, whose first duty thoroughfare, where the religious service is diswould consist in the verification of the fact turbed by the noises, if not of passing and and cause of death, and its due registration. thoughtless strangers, with those of the din and On this officer, too, would devolve the busi- traffic of the neighboring street; and the new made ness of directing measures of precaution for grave, or the stone which has just been fixed down, is trampled over by the passing crowd, or the prevention of infection. made the play-place of idle children. Where, as in some of the larger parishes in the west of London, the burial place is not contiguous to the church, it is more decent, but then it is secluded within high walls, or perhaps by houses, and is only open for the funeral ceremony, at other times inaccessible to the mourning relatives. But will it lation of the metropolis, and other crowded not be possible, as we cannot give to the poputowns, the quiet, the sanctity, the proximity to the church of the village place of sepulture, to substitute something at least decent, and with more appearance of repose and permanence: if not solemn, serious, and religiously impressive? poor are peculiarly sensible of these impressions, and to them impression and custom form a great part, the most profound and universal influence of religion; and to them they cannot be given but by some arrangement under the sanction, and with the assistance, of the government. Private speculation may give something of this kind to the rich, but private speculation looks for a return of profit for its invested capital. To my mind there is something peculiarly repugnant in Joint Stock Burial and Cemetery Companies. But, setting that aside, they are and can be of no use to the people of the metropolis and the large towns. There always has been, and probably always will be, some distinction in the burial rites, (I beg to say, that, to the credit of my curates, they refuse to make difference between rich and poor in any the services of the church,) and in the humbler or more costly grave of rich and poor alone. We shall conclude with some extracts from a communication by the Rev. Mr. Milman, in which, we think, there must be universal concurrence. He says "I cannot but consider the sanitary part of the question as the most dubious, and as resting on less satisfactory evidence than other considerations involved in the inquiry. The decency, the solemnity, the Christian impressiveness of burial, in my opinion, are of far greater and more undeniable importance. It must unquestionably be a government measure in its management as well as its organization.” Mr. Milman decidedly prefers cemeteries provided by the national funds, and under a general system of public management, to those by parochial taxation and under parochial management : The Here lie I beside the door, "On the wise and maturely considered organization, and on the provisions for the careful, constant, and vigilant superintendence of the whole system, will depend entirely its fulfilment of its great object, the re-investment of the funeral services, and of the sacred abode of the But it may be a question whether the very numdead, in their due solemnity and religious influ- bers of funerals, which must take place for a ence. Nothing can be more beautiful, more large town, with the extent of the burial places, soothing under the immediate influence of sor- may not be made a source of solemnity and imrow, or at all times more suggestive of tranquil, pressiveness, which may in some degree comyet deep religious emotion, than the village pensate for the individual and immediate inchurchyard, where the clergyman, the squire, or terest excited by a funeral in a small parish. the peasant, pass weekly or more often by the quiet That which at present, when left to a single and hallowed graves of their kindred and friends, harassed and exhausted clergyman, and one to the house of prayer, and where hereafter they sexton, and a few wretched assistants, can hardexpect themselves to be laid at rest under a ly avoid the appearance of hurry and confusion, stone perhaps, on which is expressed the simple might be so regulated as to impose from the hope of resurrection to eternal life, and where gathering of such masses of mortality, bequeathall is so peaceful, that the tomb may almost ed together to their common earth, not (let me seem as if it might last undisturbed to that time. be understood) in one vault or pit, but each apart I am inclined to think that some of the unbound-in his decent grave. The vast extent of cemeed popularity of Gray's Elegy, independent of its exquisite poetic execution, may arise from tery which would be required for London (suppose six or eight for the whole metropolis and its BERCEZ VOS PETITS. suburbs), if properly kept, and with such architectural decorations, and the grand and solemn * * ELAIN From the Court Journal. "Tis eve- -'tis eve,-the silver bells shade of trees appropriate to the character of the FROM THE FRENCH OF THE CHEVALIER F. CHATground, could scarcely fail to improve the reflective mind, and even to awe the more thoughtless. Our national character, and our more sober religion, will preserve us, probably, from the affectations and fantastic fineries of the Père la Chaise ground at Paris. From some of the German cemeteries we may learn much as to regulation, and the proper character to be maintained in a cemetery of the dead. One further practical suggestion occurs to me as likely most materially to diminish the expenditure of funerals of all classes, and therefore to render any great scheme more feasible. funeral procession through the streets of a great and busy town can scarcely be made impressive. Not even the hearse, in its gorgeous gloom, with all the pomp of heraldry, and followed by the carriages of half the nobility of the land, will arrest for an instant the noise and confusion of our A streets, or awaken any deeper impression with the mass than idle curiosity. While the poor man, borne on the shoulders of men as poor as himself, is jostled off the pavement; the mourners, at some crossing, are either in danger of being run over or separated from the body; in the throng of passers no sign of reverence, no stirring of conscious mortality in the heart. Besides this, if, as must be the case, the cemeteries are at some distance, often a considerable distance, from the homes of the deceased, to those who are real mourners nothing can be more painful or distressing than this long, wearisome, never-ending-perhaps often interrupted-march! while those who attend out of compliment to the deceased, while away the time in idle gossip in the mourning coach, to which, perhaps, they endeavor to give-but, if their feelings are not really moved, endeavor in vain to give-a serious turn. Abandon then, this painful and ineffective part of the ceremony; let the dead be conveyed with decency, but with more expedition, under trustworthy care, to the cemetery; there form the procession, there assemble the friends and relatives; concentrate the whole effect on the actual service, and do not allow the mind to be disturbed and distracted by the previous mechanical arrangements, and the extreme wearisome length of that which, if not irreverent and distressing, cannot, from the circumstances, be otherwise than painfully tedious." And at that hour in former times, Is Ye mothers, rock your babes to sleep, Behold, behold the dewy rose That bends beneath the breeze of e'en; And rocked upon the surface of the stream When night, when night has closed around, Then comes the reign of dreams- Those soft, aerial forms, Whose fairy troop our languid fancy warms, Ye mothers, rock your babes to sleep, And oft, oh! oft, when clouds are shed When pallid hues their cheeks o'erspread, Ye mothers, rock your babes to sleep, The subject, in all its bearings, is import- THE ORGANO HARMONICA,' invented by Mr. ant, and surrounded with points of difficulty Evans, of Cheltenham, was exhibited at the Hanoarising from prejudices of all kinds. But ver Square Rooms on Monday, when its various the Government ought not to shrink from enpowers, as a compendious substitute for the organ, were displayed in fugues, preludes, &c., which tering upon its serious consideration; and the were performed with tolerable effect. The instruway to induce the public to welcome im- ment seemed to us an improvement on the seraprovements would be to lead the public to phine in use behind the scenes of theatres-capasolicit them. Establish the Officers of Health haps, a larger range of stop; but, as in all former ble of more rapid execution, and possessing, perand Public Cemeteries forthwith. If inter- inventions of the kind, there is something in the ments in public cemeteries are made less tone which first satiates afterwards becomes uncostly, and the ceremonies more respectful pleasing; nor can we reconcile ourselves to the and impressive, the public of all denomina-idea of this Harmonica becoming, by choice, the aetions will not be slow in asking leave to par- and price may recommend it as a matter of econocompaniment to any performance, although its size ticipate in the benefits. my.-Ath. NAPOLEON AND MARIA LOUISA. Translated from Le Semeur, by S. J. A things occupied the attention at Malmaison. Joseph Bonaparte was charged to sign the Concordat on the part of France; the first consul had associated with him the coun Napoléon et Marie-Louise. Souvenirs his-sellor of state, Cretet, and the Abbé Bernier, torique de M. le baron Meneval, ancien curate of Saint Laud d'Angers. The post secrétaire du porte-feuille de Napoleon, M. Meneval then occupied near Joseph, premier consul et empereur, ancien secré-placed him in a good situation for becoming taire des commandements de l'Imperatrice- well acquainted with all that happened at the régente. 2 vols. in 8vo. de 55 feuilles. time of this negociation. He tell us that the Paris, 1843. Chez Amyot, libraire, Rue de la Paix. principal reason why this act was not com municated either to the tribunal or to the THE historic souvenirs, published by M. legislative body immediately after its concluthe Baron Meneval, are not the only tribute sion, was not, as was said, the necessity of he proposes to pay to the memory of the Em- awaiting the demission on the part of some peror; he announces in the preface a more titular prelates of the ancient sees-this was important work, for which the time does not only the apparent motive; but the fear of appear to him yet come. Attached from the exposing it suddenly to the discussion of the month of April, 1802, to the person of Napo- tribune. The publication of the Concordat leon, subsequently called, in 1812, to fulfil was postponed until the opening of the second the functions of secretary of commands to session of the legislative body; in the interMarie-Louise, who was, shortly afterwards, val, in order to the renewal of the fifteenth of declared regent, M. Meneval ought to know this branch of government, and of the a great many intimate details, full of interest, tribuneship, there took place a kind of coup some relating to important events of the d'état, intended to exclude from it the most epoch, a greater number independent of it. violent opposition members. The mode of The character, the habits of Napoleon, the renewal was not determined by the constituwords that he spoke, and which his secretary tional act; the senate, in place of proceeding made haste to collect and preserve, a frown or by lot, had recourse to election, and thus rid a smile which no one saw but himself, some themselves of some men the most hostile to scenes of the interior which he had witnessed, the government. The first law presented to letters which it devolved on him to transcribe the legislative body thus purged, was the -behold in these the rapid inventory of the Concordat; it was useful to recall some prefirst volume. Add to this, the charm of the cautions they judged necessary then to secure book, which, without recommending itself its passage. M. Meneval, who freely mixes by the merit of its style, offers the agreeable- up small things with great, remarks here, ness of pleasant reading, and you understand that it was on the occasion of the Te Deum the reception it has met, although it contains chanted at Notre Dame for the reëstabnothing less than revelations. It is a con- lishment of worship, that the first consul fabulation without pretension, where every wore a livery turned up with gold lace. He thing is in its place, and where the end is devotes some space to his personal sentiments missed if we would interdict every thing in the conclusion of the Concordat: "His reunessential; on the contrary, the frivolous spect for the doctrine of the Gospel was, he anecdote enjoys there all manner of privi- said, the result of his conviction, and of the leges; it is regarded by good right, as the impressions of his childhood, which were ever mistress of logic. There would here, per- living in his soul; witness the religious haps, be a particular kind of literature to ideas which were awakened in him by his characterize; but as these souvenirs do not hearing, in the garden of Malmaison, the aspire to be a type of it, it will be better to clock of the church of Rueil, and his recourse reserve our remarks for another occasion. to the consolations and succors of religion in his last hours, on St. Helena. In establishing the Catholic worship in France, he filled up the void which its absence occasioned in the state, but he, at the same time, obeyed a religious instinct." M. Meneval had been attached to Joseph Bonaparte, prior to his connection with Napoleon. Joseph had begun to write his novel of Moëna. M. Meneval has shown us the society which was accustomed to meet in his château of Martfontaine. It was there that Casti composed a part of his poem of the Animaux Parlants. Andrieux was also habitually there. At Plessis-Chamont, the residence of Lucien, the dominant taste was that of tragic representations; more serious APRIL, 1844. 36 The marriage of Napoleon with Marie Louise shows him to us exercising a sort of discipline in the bosom of the church which he had elevated. The cardinals who had assisted at the civil marriage, except two, excused themselves from aiding at the eccle siastical marriage; they alleged in justifica-l pations which had busied his mind. No one tion that their absence from the ecclesiastical could add as well as M. Meneval this page to ceremony had no other motive than the non- the biography of the emperor; it is not, by intervention of the Pope in the dissolution of any means, the most important, but yet the the first marriage. The emperor did not ac- absence of it would cause us some regret, and cept the excuse, and refused to agree to their by the contrast it presents it is necessary to protestations of obeisance and submission: the effect of the ensemble of this prodigious they were exiled in different departments, with a prohibition of wearing for one month the red color, an external mark of their dignity, which caused them to be called Black Cardinals. life. The close of the book is thus full of interest, although the interest is very different. The return of Marie-Louise to her family prepared a détachment, which it would be, at In order to give a certain unity to our ci- this day, vulgar to blame. We like better to tations, we prefer to select such details as show in exile the son rather than the wife of have some relation among themselves. And the emperor. Behold how M. Meneval takes here, again, we come upon religion. When leave of this child: "I remarked with pain Marie-Louise was nominated regent, the em- his melancholy and serious air. He had lost peror conveyed to her from the army minutes that vivacity and childish loquacity which had of letters to be written by her, or of dis- such a charm in him. He did not come to courses which she must pronounce. We find meet me, as was customary with him; and saw there the project of a circular which he or- me enter without giving me any sign that he dered the minister of worship to address to knew me. It is said that misfortune had the bishops, to cause a Te Deum to be sung commenced its work on this young head. on the occasion of the battle of Lützen. The Although he had been more than six weeks Moniteur having announced that the Te Deum confided to the persons with whom I found could not be chanted at the Notre Dame on him, he was not yet familiar with them, and the 6th of June, because of the solemnity of he seemed to regard with distrust those forms the Pentecost, Napoleon wrote as follows to which were always strange to him. I asked the regent: "In general, it suits to chant him in their presence, whether he would the Te Deum the Sabbath following. There charge me with any commissions for his fais an awkwardness, however, in postponing it. ther, whom I was going to see again. He I see not why the Pentecost should hinder the regarded me with a sad and significant air, chanting of a Te Deum. If one event be without answering me; then quickly disenpostponed for another supervening, this would gaged his hand from mine, and retired silentgive rise to all sorts of inconveniences.-ly into the embrasure of a distant window. Have this day at St. Cloud a grand spectacle The poor orphan felt that he was no more and a grand Court." The emperor did not free, and that he was not with friends of his wish, however, these ceremonies to be too father." frequent; he thought that their rare occurrence rendered them imposing. This morceau, which we abridge, written with great simplicity, will give an idea of the best manner of the author. In general there is in his recital a great air of truth. It is apparent in every instance that the author aims less to produce effect than to give us his impressions. It is perhaps thus that one succeeds best in communicating them to others. The variety of topics is necessarily very great in such a book the reader will have no need to complain of it, but it is an insuperable obstacle in the way of all attempt at analysis. But if we can only gather up some anecdotes in the first volume of the souvenirs of M. Meneval, it is far otherwise in the second; which carries us along day by day, and almost hour by hour, amid the scenes of the mournful drama of 1814. As the great facts relating to the end of the empire, however, have nothing perhaps so moving as the details of the interior, we will speak of household affairs, as M. Meneval makes them pass before our eyes. The emperor dictated each day at Fontainebleau one and often two letters, sent at different hours to M. Fain in order to instruct him as to the arrangements to be made. He gives him directions as to the large plate, what women must attend the empress, how they should convey the baggage; nothing escaped his solicitude. It is said, he ATMOSPHERIC RAILROADS.-It is stated that this thus endeavored, by a thousand cares, to call off his thoughts from the void left by the sud-lines; and that the Blackwall and Greenwich principle is likely to be employed on many short den interruption of those innumerable occu- Companies project its application. A résume of the souvenirs cannot be giv en, without reproducing them entire; so that our only resource is to commend to the reader the book which contains them. EPISODES OF EASTERN TRAVEL. From the Dublin University Magazine. LIFE UPON THE NILE. Smooth went our boat along the summer seas, Peered as we passed; and Nile's azure hue As thus we wandered far from sounds of care, and further on towards the silent regions of the Past, you live more and more in that Past, -the river over which you glide, the desert, the forest, the very air you breathe, are calm; the temples in their awful solitudes, the colossal statues, the tombs with their guardian sphinxes-all are profoundly calm and at length even English restlessness softens down, and blends with the universal calm around. Cairo! for the present farewell. It was late when I issued from the gates, but it was impossible to be in a hurry on such an evening, and on such a spot. The distance between the modern metropolis and the river is broken by many a mound and chasm, that READER! whoever you are, you may one marks where its predecessor stood,-the disday be induced to change the feverish life of torted features of a city that has died a vioEurope, with all its perplexing enjoyments, lent death. The metropolism of Egypt had its complicated luxuries, and its manifold an uneasy life of it. To say nothing of its cares, for the silence, the simplicity, and the youth at Thebes, it has wandered about freedom of a life on the Desert and the River. Lower Egypt, as if it were a mere encampHas society palled upon you? Have the ment. Under the name of Memphis, it reweek-day struggles of the world made you mained for some time on the western bank of wish for some short sabbath of repose? Has the river. It fled from Nebuchadnezzar to our coarse climate chafed your lungs, and the opposite side under the alias' of Babylon; do they require the soothing of balmily paid a visit to Alexandria under the Ptolebreathing breezes? Come away to the Nile! mies; and returned to Babylon, where it Has love, or hate, or ambition, or any other ephemeral passion, ruffled up a storm in your butter-boat of existence? Here you will find that calm counsellor Egeria-whose name is solitude. Have the marvellous stories of the old world sunk into your soul, and do you seek for their realization? Or have mere curiosity and the spirit of unrest, driven you forth to wander à l'Anglaise, as a man takes a walk on a dreary day for the pleasure of returning from it? Come away to the Nile. Here are sunshines that are never clouded, and fragrant airs, as gentle as a maiden's whisper, instead of northern gales, that howl round you, as if you were an old battlement. Here are nights, all a glow with stars, and a crescent moon that seems bowing to you by courtesy, not bent double by rheumatism. Here is no money to be lost or gained-no letters to disturb into joy or sorrow-none of the wear and tear and petty details of life. You never hear the sound of your native tongue, and somehow men don't talk, and therefore don't think so lightly, when they have to translate their thoughts into a strange language. In a word, here is the highest soul of monastic retirement. You stand apart from the world-you see men so widely differing from yourself in their appearance, their habits, their hopes, and their fears, that you are induced to look upon man in the abstract. As you recede from Europe further was besieged by Amrou. A dove built its nest in the tent of the Saracen general, and he, who had ruthlessly ravaged and laid waste the dwellings of man, would not disturb the domestic arrangements of a little bird. Babylon was taken, but he ordered a new city to be built from its ruins on the site where this dove sat hatching. Thus Fostât became the metropolis of Egypt. The nomade instinct was too strong for its repose, however, and, under the Fatimites, it was obliged to start again, and remove to its present position, where it dwells under the name of Misr el Kahira, "the victorious city," or, in plain English, Grand Cairo. There are some remains of these former cities still existing, among which is a fine aqueduct, and some buildings, called Joseph's Granaries, which are still used for that purpose. * # Some hundred years ago there was a great scarcity of corn in Egypt-the people were daily perishing of want, yet some avaricious merchants hoarded up their stock until it became worth its weight in gold. Among these was an old miser named Amin, who had filled one of "Joseph's Granaries," at the last plenteous harvest. Day by day, as the famine wasted his fellow-citizens, he sat upon the steps of his corn-store, speculating on their sufferings, and calculating how he could make the utmost usury out of God's |