His success in this endeavour was but indifferent. "A stranger all his life to the army, he exercised no influence over it, and possessed for it no attraction." The veterans could not hail in him a comrade. The republican part of the army grumbled at my Lord Protector, and considered his Highness as too high by far. The Puritan purists taxed him with looseness of life and conversation. All agreed in denouncing the favour he accorded to the Cavaliers. "Richard himself more than once furnished some ground for these accusations by the disdainful levity with which he defended himself against them: on one occasion he summoned to Whitehall a subaltern officer, who had murmured against some promotions which he had made, and having ascertained the cause of his complaints, Would you have me,' said he, 'prefer none but the godly? Here is Dick Ingoldsby, who can neither pray nor preach; yet will I trust him before ye all.' On the whole, things were tending, and rapidly, to a catastrophe. While Cromwell had been able, though with great difficulty, as Guizot explains, to caress and maltreat by turns the revolution which he had effected, and the army which he had led to victory-both republicans and soldiers, whatever ill-feeling they might entertain towards him, relying upon him in the hour of danger,—both accepting him as their arbiter, to whom they had both been forced to submit as their master, his son, on the other hand, was destitute of claims either on the party which had overthrown the monarchy, or on that which had supported the Protectoral tyranny. "A man may attain to power under the shadow of a great name, but that name will not enable him to exercise it; both in the Parliament and in the army, Richard met with a strong and jealous opposition, whose passionate attacks were directed far less against the acts of his government, than against the constitutional system of which he was the hereditary chief; and when, aided by the apprehensions of the moment and the servants of his father, he triumphed over his enemies, he had gained only a fruitless victory, for that army and that Parliament, among whose members he had obtained a majority, were engaged in mortal warfare with each other: placed between the two, in the position of a powerless arbitrator, he saw the day inevitably approaching when he would fall a victim to the blows which the two great antagonists interchanged, for he could neither reconcile them, nor choose between them, without danger to himself."

Nevertheless, Richard would not give up without an effort. He soon saw himself, indeed, almost a prisoner in Whitehall, and quite a nonentity. But nonentity as he was, and though ex nihilo nihil fit, still he indulged the hope that something would turn up, to better his prospects, and at least leave him in humdrum possession of the Protectorate-no such great thing after all, as the world at large might see, with him for Protector.

When the Parliament commissioned Haslerig to direct him to leave Whitehall, Richard, we are told, received both the message and the messenger with disdainful hauteur. At the same time he lent a willing ear to the overtures of the Cavaliers, to whose instigations towards adopting the royal cause he promised to accede, on condition that an annual income of twenty thousand pounds and a large estate were secured to him. The terms were agreed to; but when the time came to conclude the agreement, Richard drew back. Yet no sooner had he retracted, than he was

eager to fulfil his engagement-bitterly reproaching himself for his pusillanimity, and volunteering to enter into new stipulations in behalf of Charles Stuart. Mazarin, too, made propositions towards coming to an understanding with Richard, for the same purpose; and these, also, civilly enough entertained when first advanced, and duly "ventilated" by time and meditation, came to nothing.

The order Richard received from Parliament to vacate the palace being neglected, he was served with a more peremptory and pressing notice to quit. He was treated with some harshness, M. Guizot says; but it must be owned that he manifested a reluctance to leave Whitehall, which, though perhaps necessary to his safety, was certainly undignified as regarded himself, and offensive to his conquerors. Some correspondence ensued between him and the House, involving pecuniary questions, which resulted in the Houses (1) referring the schedule of his debts to be examined by the Finance Committee; (2) appointing a special committee to consider "what was fit to be done as to the settlement of a comfortable and honourable maintenance on Richard Cromwell, eldest son of the late Lord General Cromwell;" (3) advancing him a sum of two thousand pounds "for his present occasions ;" and (4) again requesting him to leave Whitehall.

"But Richard still remained there, either from a weak-minded unwillingness to tear himself from the last relics of his former greatness, or because his palace was his only asylum against the creditors, who were incessantly demanding of him, not only the payment of his own debts, but the balance which still remained due of the expenses of his father's funeral. Six weeks elapsed before the House, on the report of Haslerig, resumed the consideration of the question, referred it to a special committee to inquire how much still remained due for funeral expenses, and to provide for the payment of the same by the Commonwealth; exempted Richard from all arrest for any debt whatsoever during six months; and peremptorily required him to remove from Whitehall within six days. Thus freed from apprehension as to his personal liberty, Richard obeyed.” We are told that while his servants were packing up his goods, he gave them strict orders to be very careful of two old trunks that stood in his wardrobe; and a friend asking him what they contained, that he was solicitous about them, "Why," replied Richard, "nothing less than the lives and fortunes of all the good people of England;"-the chests being filled with the addresses which, at his accession, had been sent to him from all quarters, placing at his disposal the lives and fortunes of the whole nation, whose safety, they said, depended upon his government.

From Whitehall his sometime Highness proceeded to Hampton Court, there to await the decree of the House as to his final destiny. In a few days the decree was passed. The will of the House was, that the Lord General's debts should be paid by the Commonwealth, and Richard be freed from all liability therein; and that the said Richard should enjoy for life a yearly revenue of ten thousand pounds, lands of the annual value of five thousand pounds being also settled on him and his heirs for ever. These votes being made known to him, he gave up his last "material guarantee," residence at Hampton Court, and as good as retired into private life.

A little later, during the confusion arising from Lambert's expulsion

of the Parliament, and the alliance formed by Monk with the civil power, an idea was entertained in some quarters of making Richard Cromwell Protector again; whereupon, "with his usual readiness to accede to anything that was suggested to him, he came to London, under the escort of three squadrons of cavalry; but the proposition was rejected," the Coming Man was speedily at liberty to return, and the performance was but a new "move" of the old story, how

A king of France, with twenty thousand men,

Marched up a hill, and then-marched down again.

M. Guizot suffers Richard to drop out of sight as unconcernedly as England herself did, nor cares to tell us one word as to his retreat, his after-fortunes, or the manner of that life which was protracted to the eighteenth century, and of whose declining days a curious glimpse has been given by Sir Walter Scott in history, and by Sir Bulwer Lytton in

romance.

In his monograph on George Monk, M. Guizot had forestalled, to a large extent, the matter comprised in the latter section of the work before us, relating to the Dawn of the Restoration. But the story of the means by which that great national act was accomplished, is now told with completeness and in detail, with the characteristic calmness and painstaking observation of the distinguished author. There is no pictorial brilliancy of colouring, little of vivid portraiture, or of descriptive vigour, in these pages; little or none of what we do not look for in M. Guizot's historical writings. What we do look for, there is, too manifestly to be overlooked: high moral purpose, sincere political conviction, conscientious scrutiny of men and their movements and their motives, a grave thoughtfulness, prospective and retrospective, and a candid impartiality that, if tinged by, also tones down, the individuality of the writer, who is emphatically the "intelligent foreigner" throughout, in width of view and liberal discernment, as well as (what we certainly seem never to forget) the doctrinaire French statesman, and ex-minister of Louis Philippe's foreign affairs.

To his narrative of the Protectorate of Richard Cromwell and the Dawn of the Restoration, M. Guizot appends very copious selections from the correspondence of the French ambassador in London, M. de Bordeaux, with Cardinal Mazarin and M. de Brienne during the period under review, together with some documents which illustrate very clearly the position and intentions of the Court of Spain in its relations with our own. The whole are translated by Mr. Scoble, now honourably connected in the same capacity with several of M. Guizot's most important productions, and whose rendering of the present History will enhance the credit he enjoys as an accomplished, fluent, and careful traducteur, upon whose services M. Guizot may the more congratulate himself, when pondering the great Montalembert case, In rê Hayward versus Croker and Another, according to which, if we take the plaintiff's view, a traducteur may be defined one whose part and pleasure it is to-traduce.

DISJOINTED GOSSIP FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BIG POND.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "OUR COUSIN VERONICA.”

We are not writing for a Yankee public. It is said that a Yankee on first acquaintance asks you all about yourself, while a Southerner makes haste to tell you about himself. By the way, these Transatlantic impertinences, which stir the blood of the traveller and make so great a feature in all books of Western travel, are the legitimate growth of a thinly settled soil and a new society. Where every man knows all the affairs of his half-dozen neighbours from his childhood, it is natural he should seek fresh knowledge wherever a new fellow-creature falls in his way. But as our present public is not Yankee, we are by no means solicitous to explain the reasons which led us from an English home, to make a new settlement in life on a green little island in the Atlantic, which is in danger of becoming throughout its length and breadth (fifteen miles long by three miles broad) the too popular watering-place of Transatlantic fashion. Newport and its season are the favourite themes of the ephemerides of American literature; you find an article upon them every month in Harper's Magazine or Putnam's Monthly. Curtis, the Howadji, sedately dancing at its butterfly balls, impales his pretty partners upon his pen, dipped in a mild solution of caustic of Thackeray. Every newspaper in summer teems with Newport correspondence, and the sound of its follies has gone out into all worlds by means of a series of papers from the ever-pointed gold pen of a son of the house of Astor. But we do not propose to lead our readers over the same ground. We sought out Newport as a residence. Its fashionable months were rather its drawback than its attraction: and we think it may be found amusing to compare the every-day experiences of a quiet family of moderate means in the United States, with the circumstances and surroundings of a similar family at home.

The reader joins us, therefore, on board the steam-boat plying nightly between New York and Fall River, carrying passengers to Boston, and landing passengers at Newport about one o'clock in the morning. Walk with us, my dear sir, through this steamer; seat yourself on one of these velvet and rosewood chairs. You have "a correct misrepresentation" of General Pierce in tapestry at your back, and the carpet is of the brightestcoloured velvet. Have you seen the damask in the ladies' cabin? Every berth is draped with a varied shade of the same pattern. The boat is new, and cost 400,000 dollars (remember to ask the cost in "these United States" of everything you see; it is a proper compliment to the owner); and the stock of the line pays thirty per cent. to every original shareholder. What extravagance! say you? Nay, it is done on principle as good economy. Tobacco-chewing barbarians from the Western States draw ornamented spittoons up to the damask chairs on which they sit, and respect the magnificence of the upholstery. There is very little open deck, for these boats are built only for night travelling. The saloon runs nearly the whole length of the boat, and is broken in the middle by an arrangement of plate-glass, which enables you to see down into the

intestines of the ship, and watch the throbbings of the mighty pulse of her polished steel machinery.

We are rounding Point Judith. There is nothing now between us and the Cove of Cork but 3000 miles of desolate salt water. The broad Atlantic is playing pitch-and-toss with us. It has the best of it, and claims our forfeit. We have just consciousness enough to wonder whether any personal reminiscence of sea-sickness was in the mind of the Psalmist when, in the course of that Psalm which wonderfully describes men as going down to the sea in ships, he adds, "Their soul abhorreth all manner of meat and they are even hard at death's door." It is soon over. The coloured steward, with his soft, sweet, lisping negro voice, calls, "Passengers for Newport!" as the boat is rounding Fort Adams, one of the largest fortifications in the United States, built for the protection of this little-used but very magnificent harbour. The finest navy of the world could ride in safety in its waters, and enter them with any wind or tide. One wonder it has not, which has been attributed to it in a book of Chinese geography, published, shortly before the smouldering fires of Celestial anarchy burst forth, by a singularly enlightened Mandarin. He had been at Canton for some time, and there made the acquaintance of an American missionary. To his surprise, on looking over his friend's maps, he discovered the relative position of China to the vast extent of the two hemispheres. He entered with ardour into the study of geography (a very useless study in the present day, for everything gets altered that one learns about, and in the "march of events" they always seem to pitch their tents in spots that nobody has ever heard of). Be this as it may, our Mandarin having learnt all that the missionary could teach him of this science, retired to his province, and composed a work the object of which was to teach that China is not the biggest half of the terraqueous globe, and to enable future Chinese junks to find their way to Gravesend without stumbling by accident on the port of New York. The book is far from a bad book, and contains, among other things, a very good biographical sketch of General Washington. But in some places the compiler's knowledge has become confused, especially when he confounds Rhode Island with the Isle of Rhodes, and gives an elaborate account of the Colossus striding across the entrance into Newport harbour.

We crowd down to the lower deck before the great and silent boat has glided to her wharf, and find ourselves surrounded by merchandise, in endless tiers of clean white boxes of fresh deal, and horses tied up with their heels outermost, and the deck passengers-how Irish mothers and babes have contrived to snuggle themselves into berths they have contrived amongst the rows of bales and boxes! Mixed in with them are negroes and mulattoes-second-class accommodations being especially intended for their benefit. The hatred between them and the Irish is intense; as well it may be, upon their part, for the Irish immigration has entirely changed their position and prospects in the Free States. Every ship-load of these Celtic immigrants helps to elbow some persons of this unhappy race out of the means of getting an honest living; and whenever the occasion offers, the Irish are too glad to raise a row and come to fisticuffs with the "nagurs." The present Know-Nothing movement, which is excluding the Irish of all ranks from any claim to any