Viewing this affair in all its aspects, aided by all the information we have obtained, we are compelled to regard the capture of Sevastopol as the most wonderful achievement of its character recorded in the history of war. Places of equal or superior strength have been taken by surprise, or reduced by rigid investment; but we know of no place of equal strength which has ever been captured by regular siege, when unlimited supplies of munitions and men could be thrown into it at pleasure. We are immeasurably surprised that, under the circumstances, the place was ever taken, or that the Russians, after the experience of the last twelve months, and especially of the impressive lesson taught by the final assault, should cherish the hope of successfully contending with the Allies in the open field, when, with all the advantages of equal or superior forces at hand, and abundant materiel at command, they have been unable to defend such fortifications as surrounded Sevastopol.

With regard to the conduct of the war, should it continue, it is neither easy nor prudent to speak, when predictions may be so swiftly contradicted by events. But at the present date, (November 1,) we cannot doubt that the Allies will operate upon the left flank and rear of the Russian army in the Crimea, and that not only Sevastopol north of the harbour will fall without a blow, but that the power of Russia in the Crimea will be broken, and her army disorganized and destroyed. Both the land and naval forces of the Allies, which, since the fall of Sevastopol, may be employed elsewhere, are already operating against other important positions within striking distance; and there can be little doubt that Kherson and Nikolaieff will receive their early attention. The former contains over one hundred thousand inhabitants, according to some authorities, and is an important naval station. At its magnificent dock-yards the greater part of the late Black Sea fleet was built. The latter is comparatively a new city, but it is the seat of an admiralty, and a point of considerable political importance. Odessa is also an accessible point, which must be strongly garrisoned to preserve it from the grasp of the Allies. The conflict must, at least for a period, be carried on greatly to the disadvantage of the Russians. Having the entire command of the sea, with abundant facilities for transportation, the Allies can select their own point of attack, at which they may rapidly concentrate an overwhelming force, while the necessity of defending so many exposed positions must make the Russians weak at any given point, and expose them to successive assault and defeat. Unless, therefore, we adopt the incredible supposition that Russia is capable of raising and supporting an army numerous enough to garrison each of her exposed positions with a force strong enough to

repel the concentrated strength of the Allies, we see not how the war can be carried on to her advantage. She must suffer; and, unless she take counsel of discretion, she will ultimately be exhausted in the struggle.

The basis recognised in the "Vienna note," rejected by Russia, must finally be that upon which peace will be restored; and the Czar must consent at least to abandon his protectorate of the Principalities, and limit his power in the Black Sea.

The world is looking with breathless interest upon this gigantic struggle between the Allies and the Colossus of the North; but the true-hearted friends of humanity everywhere, and especially every American, must sympathize with England and France in the conflict. If the Russians should eventually be successful, the Testament of Peter, the Visions of Catharine, and the cherished dreams of the Russian people will all be realized. Before the death of Nicholas it is said he had already selected and educated the future. commanders of "the army of Constantinople," "the army of India," &c.; and the march of events for the last century and a half demonstrates the steady determination of Russia to be satisfied with nothing short of continental supremacy and control. Her success in her designs upon Turkey would arrest the march of civilization and religion, and throw back for centuries the disenthrallment of the nations. Whatever, therefore, may be the designs of the emperor of France or the ministry of England, we think the Allies are really fighting for the cause of freedom and religion; and that, unconsciously perhaps, they are accomplishing the merciful designs of Providence with respect to the enlightenment of the race. Russia is inert and feeble for purposes of aggression. Her vast extent of territory, her sparse population, and her want of facilities for easy and rapid transportation, make it impossible for her suddenly to assail any of her neighbours. Give her Constantinople and ready access to the Mediterranean and these disabilities cease. Give her the liberty to build ships and gather a navy in the Bosphorus, and refresh and discipline her legions on its shores, and she at once becomes potential in Europe and Asia, and holds the helm of the eastern hemisphere. It is one thing to march an army from Moscow or St. Petersburgh upon India, Asia Minor, or Europe, across interminable steppes or through the rugged passes of the Caucasus, and quite another to launch it suddenly as a bolt from heaven, fresh and vigorous, from the barracks of Stamboul.

But aside from political reasons, if we can suppose the nations to be moved by motives of justice or equity, the Allies are fully justified in interposing in behalf of Turkey. We have an

unshaken belief in the righteousness of the abstract doctrine of "intervention." A strong nation is under as clear an obligation to interpose in behalf of a weak one, threatened with injury or ruin, as a strong man is to interpose in behalf of a weak one when assaulted by one stronger than himself. Nations should be the subjects of law as well as individuals; and the one has no more right to resort to violence than the other. And if a strong nation shows a disposition to disregard national law,-to play the invader and violate the rights of its weaker neighbour,-it becomes the common interest and duty of other nations to rebuke her and protect the party assailed, just as it is the duty of society to protect its members from unlawful violence, and to rebuke the swaggering bully.

The conflict between the Allies and Russia has been well called a conflict between civilization and barbarism. The outposts of the Russian Empire pushed to Constantinople would be another wave of that dark sea which has, more than once from the same direction, swept over Western Europe. We deprecate this result as the most disastrous event that could occur to civilization, to freedom, or to Christianity.

ART. IV.-REMAINS OF LATIN TRAGEDY.

Tragicorum Latinorum Reliquiæ. Recensuit OTTO RIBBECK, Lipsiæ. Sumptibus et Formis B. G. Teubneri. MDCCCLII. 1 vol. 8vo. pp. 442.

It is a very natural inquiry on the first inspection of this volume, or of any similar collection of ancient fragments, to ask, What is the use of such an aggregation of mutilated relics, and what healthy nourishment can be expected from a meal off such tough, broken, and indigestible victuals? The question is easily asked, and forces itself spontaneously on the mind. A satisfactory answer does not present itself quite so readily; and yet such an answer may be given, and had probably been conceived in even an exaggerated form before the labour of gathering, arranging, methodizing, and cleansing these antiquated remnants was undertaken.

Here, in one moderate-sized volume, of which the text occupies only the fourth part, or thereabouts, are brought together all the scattered relics of early Roman tragedy. Here are all the rags and shreds which have been preserved of the singing robes of some thirtyeight or forty Roman tragedians. They furnish forth a curious wardrobe of tattered garments. Nowhere is either a single breadth

of cloth or pattern of the piece entire, but the scanty patches are sufficiently numerous to afford adequate specimens of the texture of the fabric.

The whole long course of Latin literature has been diligently examined and forked over, and then strained through the fine sieve of critical acumen, to separate from the general soil the particles of crystal which are here strung together with an ingenious effort to introduce order into the midst of chaos, and to restore some appearance of symmetry to a dismembered and dissipated organism. The shivered bones, the desiccated muscles, the chords, and sinews, and fine dust of organizations, once complete in themselves, but now represented merely by blanched and mouldy splinters, are collected with a careful and tender hand, and decently laid out with a wellintended ingenuity, and with a solicitous anxiety to recompose the features of the dead from the scanty shreds of the several anatomies which can still be found. It is a very inefficient and bungling attempt at resurrection, but is a fitting prelude to a decent burial, and renders us capable of fully appreciating the funeral service, and the general character of the deceased.

Is it within the compass of even the richest imagination to accomplish or even to fancy the reunion, under a symmetrical and living form, of these dry bones from the valley of Jehoshaphat—to replace in their due positions in the skeleton these commingled fragments of matter once entire and animated, and to breathe into the heaps of dead, and shattered, and long putrescent limbs the vital air and warmth of their original semblance? The condensed commentary, (Quæstionum Scenicarum Mantissa,) appended to the text in this volume, will prove the earnest assiduity with which this task has been undertaken, and may illustrate the degree and extent of the success which is still attainable in this wilderness of possible imaginations. We must confess, however, that in all such enterprises we cannot wholly escape the impression that we behold the blind leading the blind.

Qui sibi semitam non sapiunt, alteri monstrant viam."

Does it not seem, on the first consideration, the vainest of all vain hopes, to evoke the secrets of life from the dust and ashes of the dead-to pretend to recall features which have never been seen in the memory of man, and of which no delineation has been transmitted to us to revive images of beings, crushed, buried, and crumbled into dust, and known only by the little portions of bone and sinew still discernible amid the dust? Does it not seem the wildest of all wild imaginations to conjecture the past form and outline of a body,

* Ennii Telamo. Fr. II., v. 274, p. 45. Ribbeck.

when no individual of the species, no imitation, and no similitude has been perpetuated in its integrity, or even in any considerable part? All the bones are broken and imperfect, and all the articulations lost, of the skeleton which we would recompose. Yet the task has been attempted again and again, though rarely with such unfavourable materials as Otto Ribbeck operates on; and labours of this sort, desperate as they appear to be, are not limited to the resuscitation and reorganization of classical remains, but had been previously applied with singular felicity to the more difficult subjects of antediluvian creation.

The aims of the geological paleontologist and of the philologist who endeavours to methodize the fragments of classical antiquity are, in many respects, closely analogous. Both propose to reconstruct the original forms by the assistance of the indications afforded by the mutilated parts which are still accessible. Both contemplate the artificial and artistical arrangement of the relics in the order in which nature, or creative art, which is the simular of nature, had originally combined them. Both supply by sagacious and scientific conjecture the missing links which complete the skeleton, and explain the position and probable purpose of the bleached and timeeaten parts which form the only substantial materials for the whole imaginary construction. Both call into requisition like talents, and seek the achievement of like results. Both subdue imagination, though in unequal degrees, to the functions and sobriety of science; and, by cautious procedure in this course, consolidate dreams into realities. Whatever success may attend their ingenious conjectures, we may, however, derive a profitable warning from a caution found among the fragments at present submitted to our notice :

Aliquot sunt vera somnia, et non omnia est necesse."

Of the two classes of conjectural restorers of extinct forms, the geologist has, in some respects, much the more arduous task. He must complete the anatomy which he handles; he must imagine and delineate anew all that is wanting. Every absent bone, and claw, and osseous process must be conceived and represented, not arbitrarily, but with a strict regard to the pregnant though but slightly indicated signs which may be detected in the fossil antiquity in his hands. How latent, how trivial, or how effectual those indications may be, it is not our concern to exhibit at present. The internal composition of the bone may suffice for the determination of the type of the animal, or the foliation of the ivory as revealed by the microscope in the section of a tooth may suggest the shape and arrange

Ennius. Incerti nominis Reliquiæ. Fr. LVI., v. 401, p. 61. Ribbeck.