by all the eminent men of the city and neighbourhood.

And there, in the quiet churchyard of Inveresk, sleeps the dust of David Macbeth Moir, with the dust of his three little boys, whom he loved so dearly, and lamented so touchingly.

The glory dies not, and the grief is past.

In person (says his biographer)" Delta was tall, well-formed and erect. The development of his head was not peculiar in any way, but good upon the whole; and he carried it with a manly elevation. His hair was light, almost inclined to be sandy; and he usually wore it short. His features were regular and handsome; but he had rather too much colour, not in the cheeks merely, but diffused over the whole face. His eyes were greyblue, mild withal, but ready to twinkle sharp.

When the sense of the ludicrous was full upon him, he had a way of raising his eye-brows as people do in wonder; and there was a moist confused ferment in his eyes, glaring in the very riot and delirium of over-boiling fun. This was one of the strongest expressions of his nature; but, with the high moral powers ever watchful and dominant to chasten and subdue, it was not much indulged in. His usual tone of voice had a considerate kindliness in it which was very pleasant to the ear. In the way of beating down excuses, in order to have the visit of a friend prolonged, he was quite old-fashioned in his overbearing cordiality"-a capital description, which makes us see and love the man.

We must defer the consideration of Delta's poetry to a future occasion.

BENI-BN-ALI.

A LEAF OF MILITARY BIOGRAPHY.

My battles are all over, my sword and scabbard tense, for the blaze of an almost vertical sun was are arranged crosswise over my chimney-piece, unsoftened by a single cloud. The ground became and here I sit in my little parlour, before a blazing fire, drawing tranquilly from my pipe, and taking an occasional sip from "(dear Tom) that brown jug." Yet I have felt all the hardships and passed through the dangers of a soldier's life, and just now this pleasant draught reminds me of the horrors of that thirst from which I suffered in Arabia.

Our regiment, with another of European infantry, two battalions of Sepoys, and a detachment of artillery, was ordered to proceed from Bombay to Muscat, for the purpose of putting down an Arab tribe of pirates, called the Beni-bn-Ali. They were remarkably ferocious, and bad destroyed many vessels belonging to the Imam of Muscat, who was our ally. Their capital, or rather their only town, was situated a few miles inland from the promontory which terminates Arabia to the eastward. It was impossible for us to land at this place on account of the tremendous surf continually breaking on the shore, and we were obliged to proceed upwards as far as Sur. Here we landed, though with considerable difficulty. Not being able to proceed at once to Beni-bn-Ali, from the want of the means of transit, we encamped at Sur, and sent to Muscat for assistance. The aspect of the country was dreary in the extreme. The coast, as far as the eye could reach, consisted of low, dark-coloured hills, separated by sandy valleys, which in some places widened into small plains, and in others narrowed into rugged gorges. An occasional clump of date-palms, or a low jungle of a kind of knotty and twisted thorn, almost destitute of leaves, were the only objects that relieved the dull monotony. Not a single spot of verdant sward, not even a blade of grass, was visible. The heat during the day was in

as hot as the floor of an oven, and glared so fiercely that the eye could not rest on it. The winds which blew over this desert resembled blasts from a furnace, and filled the air with thick clouds of sand, the particles of which were so fine that they completely penetrated our clothes. The animated creation had all but entirely deserted the inhospitable waste. Not even an insect sported in the sunshine. The desolation was rendered more striking to us, from the contrast it presented to the magnificence of the scenery in that part of India through which we had lately marched. There, the sublimity of the mountain-passes, and the gigantic proportions of the forest-trees, and the ceaseless activity of their feathered tribes, filled the mind with pleasure. Here, all was silent and cheerless. The few Arabs we saw in the neighbourhood were a set of the most filthy, ill-looking, ferocions savages I ever set eye on, possessing not a spark of that nobleness of mien which distinguishes other tribes of these children of the desert. Almost all had either one or both eyes sore, and the smell of their filthy garments was most disgusting. Their food seemed to consist chiefly of dates and saltfish (pretty plentifully sprinkled with sand), in both of which articles their goats and horses were taught to participate.

Our course of life here was, for a while, sufficiently monotonous. The heat confined us to our tents during the day, and the camp was hushed in silence. But when evening came on, and the heat was less oppressive, the bugles sounded to parade; and when that was over, we enjoyed the cool evening air till twilight had given place to darkness. Then the hum of voices died gradually away, and the stillness of night was broken only by the tread of the sentrics and the occasional relieving of the guard.

before me.

On the sixth day of our march we passed a spot covered with the bones of a party which had been sent before us against Beni-bn-Ali. It was not so strong as we were, and had been surprised by the Arabs just as we had been at Sur, but with more disastrous consequences. The entire force had been cut off, except the officer in command and a few others, who had escaped on camels. Many of the bones here were still covered by the remains of the flesh, shrivelled up by the intense heat.

About a fortnight after our debarkation, I was | through the desert to the fort of Beni-bn-Ali. Beef suddenly aroused one night by a deafening noise. and biscuit for six days were served out to each of Prolonged yells, like those of the hyena, mingled the men; but as I happened to be absent at the with the frantic neighing of horses and the dis- time, and could not, of course, pack up my provicharge of fire-arms, startled me from sleep. I sions immediately, the wind filled my beef so full leaped to my feet, as did also my comrades; and, of sand that I threw it away. I need not dwell buckling on our belts with the utmost haste, each on the distresses and horrors of the march. Mere man snatched the musket that first met his grasp exposure to such a sun was sufficiently fearful, but and darted out. As I was crossing the door, I to march under it, loaded, too, as we were with felt myself just touched with the point of a spear arms, ammunition and provisions, was complete torthat had been thrust through the tent wall, and I ture. One day in particular, we found the wells was no sooner out than the tent fell, the ropes that at the station where we had intended to halt dry, supported it having been cut. The moon had and were obliged to continue our march to the gone down, but the stars yielded a faint glimmer- next. What a day that was! Many of our heartiest ing light, and by it I saw a Bedouin raise his and most robust fellows dropped down, and we sword and cut down one of our company just were obliged to step over them, and leave them to I immediately levelled my piece and their fate. A few became delirious under the shot him through the head. No sooner had I scorching rays. So maddening was the agony of lowered my musket than I saw another Arab, thirst that, when a camel loaded with water was guided by its flash, running to attack me on the brought up, some of the men, to get at it sooner, right. As my musket had no bayonet, I was in drove their bayonets into the water-skins, and thus rather a perilous position; but fortunately the Arab caused most of the precious freight to be lost. was thrown down by his foot catching in some part of the fallen tent. I clubbed my musket, and struck him such a blow on the head with the buttend of it that he never rose again. I then cast my eyes hurriedly round, and, seeing no other foe near, ran to the open ground in front of the line of tents. Here I found myself in the midst of a crowd of soldiers belonging to our regiment, and heard the voice of the colonel, who was shouting his commands and exerting himself vigorously to get all into order. In five minutes the whole regiment had fallen into line, and we opened so brisk a fire upon the Arabs that the whole place seemed in a blaze. A few minutes after, we could distinguish them stealing off rapidly across the plain. We immediately advanced, and marched a short way out of the camp; then halting, we kept up our fire for a while to make sure of their being all away, after which we marched back to our former ground and waited for the morning. We presented indeed a singular spectacle as the returning light of day revealed us to each other, for in the hurry of the alarm each one had hastened out with little else but his arms and accoutrements. The commanding-officer had on his scarlet coat but no trousers, and the captain of our company had a sheet wound round his middle, but the greater number were merely in their shirts. We found that the Arabs had fallen upon our outlying piquets so suddenly, that they were killed to a man before the alarm could be given. They might have done us much mischief if they had not awakened us with their yells when they began their attack upon the camp. A party of them also fortunately fell upon the place where the horses were fastened, and the neighing of the frightened and wounded creatures soon roused us effectually. Our loss in consequence was but small; and though we found but few bodies of the enemy, we had reason to believe that more had fallen, but that their corpses had been dragged off by their fellows. Such was the night attack at Sur, a scene never to be forgotten by those engaged in it.

A few days afterwards we commenced our march

On the seventh day after leaving Sur, our column emerged from a sandy valley, in which we had marched several miles between two low ranges of hills, into a small plain. The farther end of this plain was bounded by a grove of date-palms, and on the right lay the fort of Beni-bn-Ali. The walls of this place were merely of earth, and about eight feet in height. In shape it was nearly square, and the farther end reached to the grove of palms I have mentioned. At that end, also, stood the citadel, which was just an inner inclosure of the same nature as the outer one. We continued our march right on through the plain, intending to halt when the head of the column should reach the grove, and pitch our camp directly opposite the fort. Our regiment led the column, and, when we had nearly reached the date-trees, we saw a thick cloud of Arabs pouring out of the gate of the fort. We immediately halted, fronted to the enemy, and prepared to fire on them as soon as they should be within reach. On they came in a dense black mass, without any clothing, their swarthy, spare bodies exposed to the sun, and their black hair streaming behind them. Their number could not have been more than one-half of ours, yet so desperate were they that, after firing once the few matchlocks they had, they threw them away, and rushed on us with their swords. Neither the fire the whole line opened on them, nor the rounds of grape-shot from the field-pieces, could check their fury. On they rushed like incarnate fiends, yelling and screaming, and brandishing their flashing swords, and dashed themselves on the regiment of sepoys immediately below us. could not stand the shock a moment; the Arabs

It

cut right through them, and then attacked them in | put up as well as we could with an empty stomach. the rear, and cut through them again. The firing No doubt it would have been a very laughable had all ceased, and our eyes were fastened with fearful interest on the terrific struggle. The Arabs fought like madmen. Their long, thin and very sharp swords, of which they were complete masters, gave them great advantage over our men. The adjutant of the regiment, a fine, broad-built, noble-looking officer, spurred his horse into the midst and cut down several before he fell himself. I saw some of the Arabs seize the sepoys by their belts with the left hand, and strike off their heads with the right. I felt more of sickening horror while gazing on that contest than ever I did in the front of battle when, stained with blood, I have made my way over the dying and the

THE BOROUGH OF KILLDOO.

THE retired and quiet town of Killdoo, which figures in Mr. Chopstick the parliamentary agent's private schedule as a purchaseable borough of uncertain political principles, is situated in one of the central counties of England. A small, fordable, and rather picturesque river runs curling and swirling through a portion of the outskirts; and pleasant pastures and nodding woods, within a few minutes' walk of the place, slope down towards the very banks of the stream, the gurgling current of which may be heard of a quiet evening as the inhabitants sit at their doors, as they are very much given to do, gossiping and inhaling the breath of the summer twilight. The town stands in a delightful and fertile valley, through which a railroad, leading at least a hundred miles both north and south, runs at no great distance; the river supplies what the Americans would call a "tarnation good water privilege;" the soil for miles round is of the richest quality; land-carriage is convenient and cheap; and all the elements of commercial prosperity, so far as a stranger might judge, lie within and around the town.

have incidentally touched the gangrene which is rotting the vitals of the town. Charity-doveeyed Charity-shame that it should have to be said! -is the curse, the mortal plague that blights the heart of Killdoo. Godlike Charity has transformed her golden pinions into a vampyre wing, and, in that green and lovely valley on the banks of the gurgling stream, sits brooding over the paradise of pauperdom, and has drawn around it, and has nursed and pampered within it, the pauper spirit of a whole nation. The angel of light has been bewitched by the false fiend of posthumous piety into a foul bird of darkness, whose every feather is an unmerited benefaction, and who gathers her beggarly chicks from all parts of the empire, and crams them with the poisonous luxuries of unearned and unneeded benevolence. There is hardly a man to be met with in Killdoo who is not a pauper in spirit and in practice too. The ambition of every inhabitant is to fasten himself and his family upon the funds of any or all of the bloated charities in some shape or other; and all, to the meanest wretch among them, have been, unfortunately, successful, more or less, in accomplishing their object. It may be averred with truth, in the case of the majority, that the Killdoonian babes are born in charity beds, swaddled in charity flannels, nursed upon charity pap, clad in charity uniforms, educated in charity schools, where charity Latin, charity Greek, charity mathematics, charity logic, and, in short, a charity curriculum that

But, somehow or other, Killdoo does not prosper, and has not prospered for many generations. There is no spirit of enterprise in the place; and nothing is done, because nothing is attempted. Once in seven years, and it may happen sometimes oftener, as Killdoo sends one member to Parliament, the inhabitants are roused from their lethargy by the excitement of a contested election. It is always a contested election at Killdoo. Kill-leaves nothing to be wished for, goes a-begging to doo is not a market-town, in any sense of the word, save at election-time, and then the whole town is in the market, and sells itself soul and body to the highest bidder. On these occasions, Mr. Chopstick, the parliamentary agent, comes down by express, and at a meeting of the independent electors, which has been held time out of mind at the "Bull and Bedpost," settles the price of their sweet voices upon the principle of equality and fraternity; for which virtues the inhabitants of Killdoo, as we shall have occasion to show, are especially remarkable. The election over, Killdoo goes to sleep again, and simmers on for seven

years more.

There is no respectable middle class in Killdoo, or, if there be, we have been unable to discover them in the course of a fortnight's quarantine. Tradesmen there are, to be sure- -grocers, and butchers, and bakers, and haberdashers, and pawnbrokers, and so on; but they all seem to have something else to think of besides their business, and something, too, which to them is of more importance than business in any shape. Then there are rich men with thousands and tens of thousands in the funds—and poor men too, a host, without a penny, as they say, to bless themselves with, but what charity affords.

"But what charity affords!"—ah, there it is! We

every Killdoo child to come and be crammed for nothing. When they grow up to adolescence they are hoisted into business upon charity capital, and, in a few years after, out of bankruptcy by charity funds. When they have well-nigh done fooling with the world, they are thrust bodily into charity asylums, where they fatten to twenty stone upon charity beef and charity pudding, ere they shift their pampered carcases into charity coffins, where they rot in a charity grave.

Where, as the German proverb has it, roasted pigeons fly about crying "Come and eat me," it is but natural that hungry and open-mouthed mortals should be found to congregate. Accordingly we find that in Killdoo there are long rows of genteel residences, with their gardens abutting on the river, inhabited by genteel beggars with ample fortunes in the three per cents., and swarms of olive-branches in charity caps and drab or yellow leggins, brought to the charity-ridden borough by their beggarly sires to get the benefit of a pauper education, to prepare them, forsooth, for the honourable strife for independence with honourable men. By the provisions set forth in the charters of the enormously endowed schools which are at once the boast and the bane of the rotten borough, it is decreed that every inhabitant who has resided long enough to pay taxes in the place is

eligible to the full enjoyment of the privileges wheels of commerce almost at a stand-still. Bethey offer. It is not long ago that the publica-yond the everyday and commonest necessaries of tion in London of a blue-book, setting forth the life, there is nothing to be procured without sendextent of these unheard-of advantages, sent a ing elsewhere for it, because there is no demand swarm of wealthy and well-to-do heads of families for anything save what all are expecting that down to Killdoo, where, locating upon an average charity will supply. Men wander about the place their seven sons a-piece, they took up their osten- as men in a dream, or as objectless ghosts in a sible residence, and secured the benefits of a city of the dead, to which, indeed, in some sort, classical education for their boys, at the cost of the borough of Killdoo may be likened. Hope is not a single sixpence. dead-energy is dead-industry is dead, and inThe borough is a perfect commonwealth of dependence is dead, ruthlessly brained and murbeggary. The sons of Alderman Tomkins of the dered outright by the many-headed hydra of pious Minories rub shoulders and grind Greek in the same beneficence. Killdoo itself is dying fast. Oh for class with Bill Moggs, whose father "oles osses,' a little good, wholesome, practical hard-heartedness and rubs them down upon occasion, at the "Bull-some regenerating act of positive injusticeand Bedpost," to eke out his pay as an almsbody some stretch of despotic tyranny and compassionon the establishment of " Blunder's Gift." The ate violence that should demolish for ever the young Tomkinses will come up to London and charities of Killdoo, and arouse her sleeping sons enter the alderman's counting-house when they to the necessity of self-exertion, and the luxury of have sucked their eleemosynary Alma Mater dry; self-reliance! the young Moggs will stick to the paternal soil and the paternal estate in the almshouse, in which he feels already that he has a vested interest. The penny shaver who despatches his wife to the church on the Sunday, for the weekly dole of a half-quartern loaf which he enjoys by virtue of inheritance from his forefathers, who were placed originally on "the Donkey Gift," sends his spindle-shanked son and heir to the grammarschool to chop mathematics on the Monday with the youthful scions of the self-exiled gentry.

To all moral intents and purposes, charity has assassinated Killdoo. The black cloud of posthumous benevolence has settled in everlasting gloom upon the doomed place. The immense amount of money, or, what is the same, money's worth, to be given away, has banished all thought of money to be earned. Industry is at a dead lock, and the

But it will not be. Cities and communities which invariably play the Phoenix, and rise into new beauty from the ashes of incendiarism or the devastation of war, and into new vigour from the oppression of the despot, sink into remediless wreck when fortune has no longer a frown to bestow. The permanency of British institutions which secures to Kildoo the possession of her destructive charities, is the guarantee of her certain declension and ultimate degradation and ruin. As a ruin, let her remain for ages a monument and a monitress to wealthy fools, who are often too nig gardly to assist the living, warning them not to corrupt unborn generations by the senseless bestowal of their hoarded gains.

Ladies and gentlemen, whereabouts on the map is the Borough of Killdoo?

PRINCE FELIX SCHWARZENBERG AND AUSTRIAN DIPLOMACY. THE family of Schwarzenberg, or "Black Mountain," have for a long period ranked among the first within the hereditary dominions of the House of Hapsburg; and they held sovereign authority in the Franconian county from which they derived their name, until the time when eightyfour of the lesser German princes were mediatised by the Confederation of the Rhine.

of Krumau; and in 1746 the title of prince was extended to all the descendants.

The first of the family was created a banneret in 1417, and a baron in 1429. The creations since that period have been in the line of primogeniture: first, "Count of the Empire" in 1599, "Prince of the Empire" in 1670, and in the following year, "Count Palatine of the Court, and Count Prince of Schwarzenberg." In 1674, the reigning prince was received into the college of the Princes of the Empire, and in 1698 installed as Prince Landgrave of Kleggau; in 1723, as Duke

The House of Schwarzenberg is now divided into two majorats, the first of which is represented by John Adolphus, Prince and Seigneur of Schwarzenberg, Prince Landgrave of Kleggau, Count of Soulz, and Duke of Krumau. He was born in 1799, and succeeded his father in 1833; he was married to the Princess Eleanor of Lichenstein three years previously, by whom he has one sou and one daughter. His possessions are the bailliages of Schwarzenberg and Hohenlandsberg; the seigneuries of Wilhelmsdorf and Marktbreit; which comprise an area of about 120 English square miles, with about 11,000 inhabitants, and are situate in the middle of Lower Franconia. The territories of this Prince in Bohemia are of immense extent, and include numerous towns and