Mr. Calhoun was calculated to be a leader in whatsoever association of political friends he was thrown. He was a man of undoubted genius, and of commanding talent. All the country and all the world admit that. His mind was both perceptive and vigorous. It was clear, quick, and strong.

Sir, the eloquence of Mr. Calhoun, or the manner of his exhibition of his sentiments in public bodies, was part of his intellectual character. It grew out of the qualities of his mind. It was plain, strong, terse, condensed, concise; sometimes impassioned--still always severe. Rejecting ornament, not often seeking far for illustration, his power consisted in the plainness of his propositions, in the closeness of his logic, and in the earnestness and energy of his manner. These are

the qualities, as I think, which have enabled him, through such a long course of years, to speak often, and yet always command attention. His demeanor as a Senator is known to us all--is appreciated, venerated by us all. No man was more respectful to others; no man carried himself with greater decorum, no man with superior dignity. I think there is not one of us but felt when he last addressed us from his seat in the Senate, his form still erect, with a voice by no means indicating such a degree of physical weakness as did, in fact, possess him, with clear tones, and an impressive, and, I may say, an imposing manner, who did not feel that he might imagine that we saw before us a Senator of Rome, when Rome survived.

Sir, I have not in public nor in private life known a more assiduous person in the discharge of his appropriate duties. I have known no man who wasted less of life in what is called recreation, or employed less of it in any pursuits not connected with the immediate discharge of his duty. He seemed to have no recreation but the pleasure of conversation with his friends. Out of the chambers of Congress, he was either devoting himself to the acquisition of knowledge pertaining to the immediate subject of the duty before him, or else he was indulging in those social interviews in which he so much delighted.

My honorable friend from Kentucky has spoken in just terms of his colloquial talents. They certainly were singular and eminent. There was a charm in his conversation not often found. He delighted, especially, in conversation and intercourse with young men. I suppose that there has been no man among us who had more winning manners, and such an intercourse and conversation, with men comparatively young, than Mr. Calhoun. I believe one great power of his character, in general, was his conversational talent. I believe it is that, as well as a consciousness of his high integrity, and the greatest reverence for his intellect and ability, that has made him so endeared an object to the people of the state to which he belonged.

Mr. President, he had the basis, the indispensable basis, of all high

character; and that was unspotted integrity-unimpeached honor and character. If he had aspirations, they were high, and honorable, and noble. There was nothing grovelling, or low, or meanly selfish, that came near the head or the heart of Mr. Calhoun. Firm in his purpose, perfectly patriotic and honest, as I am sure he was, in the principles that he espoused, and in the measures that he defended, aside from that large regard for that species of distinction that conducted him to eminent stations for the benefit of the republic, I do not believe he had a selfish motive, or selfish feeling.

However, sir, he may have differed from others of us in his political opinions or his political principles, those principles and those opinions will now descend to posterity, under the sanction of a great name. He has lived long enough, he has done enough, and he has done it so well, so successfully, so honorably, as to connect himself for all time with the records of his country. He is now a historical character. Those of us who have known him here, will find that he has left upon our minds and our hearts a strong and lasting impression of his person, his character, and his public performances, which, while we live, will never be obliterated. We shall hereafter, I am sure, indulge in it as a grateful recollection, that we have lived in his age; that we have been his contemporaries, that we have seen him, and heard him, and known him. We shall delight to speak of him to those who are rising up to fill our places. And, when the time shall come when we ourselves shall go, one after another, in succession to our graves, we shall carry with us a deep sense of his genius and character, his honor and integrity, his amiable deportment in private life, and the purity of his exalted patriotism.

From "Speech in the Senate," 1850.

MURDER OF THOMAS À BECKET.

A. THIERRY.

THOMAS À BECKET had just finished his morning repast, and his servitors were still at the table. He saluted the Normans upon their entrance, and demanded the object of their visit. After a few minutes of silence, Reginald Fitz-Urse spoke :-" We have come," said he, "on the part of the king, to demand that the excommunicated persons shall be absolved, that the suspended Bishops be re-established, and that you, yourself, explain your designs against the king." "It is not I," answered Thomas, "it is the sovereign pontiff himself who excommunicated the Archbishop of York, and who alone, in consequence, has the right to absolve him; as for the rest, I will re-establish them, if they will make their submission to me." "From whom then do you hold your Archbishopric?" demanded Reginald; "from the king, or from the Pope ?" "I hold the spiritual rights from God and the Pope, and the

temporal rights from the king." "What is it not the king who has given you everything?" "By no means," answered Becket. Here the Normans began to bite their gloves, and to express impatience. "I think you mean to threaten me," said the Primate, "but it is useless; if all the swords in England were raised over my head, you would gain nothing from me." "Well, then, we will do better than threaten," cried out Fitz-Urse, rising suddenly; the others followed him towards the door, crying out, To arms! The door of the apartment was closed immediately behind them. Reginald armed himself in the court-yard, taking an axe from the hands of a carpenter who was working there. He struck against the door to open it or break it in; the people of the house, hearing the blows of the axe, entreated the Archbishop to take refuge in the church, which communicated by a gallery with his apartment. He would not. They were going to drag him thither by force, when one of the assistants remarked that the vesper-bell was ringing. "Since it is the hour of my duty, I will go to the church," he said; and causing them to bear before him the cross, he walked slowly through the gallery, and then towards the great altar.

Scarcely were his feet upon the steps of the altar, when Reginald Fitz-Urse appeared at the other end of the church completely armed, carrying in his hand his two-edged sword, crying out, "Hither! hither! loyal servants of the king." The other conspirators followed him, armed cap-a-pie, brandishing their swords. One cried out, "Where is the traitor?" Becket did not answer. "Where is the Archbishop?" "Here,” replied Becket; "but there is no traitor here; what are you doing in the house of God in such armor? what is your purpose?" "To slay you!" was the answer. "I am resigned," replied the Archbishop, "you will not see me fly from your swords; but, in the name of the Almighty God, I forbid you to touch one of my companions, clergy or lay, great or small." At that moment he received from behind a blow with the flat of the sword on his shoulder, and the person who struck it, said, "Fly, or you are a dead man." He did not move; the armed men undertook to drag him outside of the church, being scrupulous about killing him there; he struggled with them, declaring that he would not go out; that he would compel them to execute upon that very spot, their intentions or their orders. William de Tracy raised his sword, and at one blow cut off the hand of a Saxon monk named Edward Gryn, and wounded Becket on the head. A second blow, given by another Norman, threw him down with his face against the ground; a third clove his skull, and was given with such violence, that the sword was broken against the pavement. William Mautrait then pushed the motionless body with his foot, saying,-" Thus perish the traitor who has disturbed the kingdom, and caused the English to rebel."

Original translation from "Conquest of England," &c.

THE COSMOS.

BAYARD TAYLOR,

IN February, 1827, Humboldt removed from Paris. He did not proceed directly to Berlin, but joined his brother's son-in-law, Count Bülow, who had just been appointed ambassador to England, on a journey to London. Humboldt's stay in England was short, for in May we find him permanently settled in Berlin. He found his brother in Berlin, for he had a residence there, as well as at Tegel, and scores of his old friends, among others Augustus Schlegel. The king received him with open arms, and conferred upon him the title of privy councillor. He might have been secretary of state, if he had chosen ; indeed, there was no office too good for him, but he loved science too well to change it for politics. Never enamored of that artful, but powerful goddess, who, whatever her faults, is sure in the end to reward her worshippers, he was less likely to be won by her blandishments then, than at any other period of his life. He had a new and grand scheme on foot,-one that he had pondered over for years. He thought of it at Paris, in his study among his books and manuscripts, and in the salons of art and fashion, among the wise and the foolish. He thought of it in Mexico, as he groped his way in the darkness of the mines, or wandered among the ruins of vanished nations. He thought of it in Peru, on the rugged sides of Chimborazo and Cotopaxi; in the terrible pass of Quindiu; in the dense forests of the Orinoco, and at Cumana among the earthquakes. He thought of it on the deck of the Pizarro in the midst of the sea, and on the crater of Teneriffe in the illimitable wilderness of air. He thought of it everywhere, by day and at night, in his waking moments, and in his dreams. It was always with him. It was the one thought of his thoughts, his first and last conception, the most majestic statue of his house of life. It was 66 Kosmos." 'Its undefined image," he wrote in 1844, "has floated before my mind for almost half a century."

All the travels that he had undertaken, and all the books that he had written, related to this great work. It was not as a traveller that he had crossed the sea, and explored unknown lands: nor yet as a man of science but as the traveller, the man of science. He aimed at no common fame. Indeed, he aimed at none. It was to a nobler object than "the bauble reputation" that he devoted his life; it was a thirst for knowledge, a passion for wisdom, not in one thing, or many things, but in all things. To be a wise man was not enough; he would be the wisest of men. His wisdom was universal, like the Universe to which it was directed, and which he understood, if ever man did, or can understand it.

From "Life of Humboldt."

LA VALETTE AT MALTA.

PRESCOTT.

LA VALETTE was one of those rare men whom Providence seems to raise up for special occasions, so wonderfully are their peculiar quali ties suited to the emergency. To that attachment to his order which he had in common with his brethren, he united a strong religious sentiment, sincere and self-sacrificing, which shone through every act of his life. This gave him an absolute ascendency over his followers, which he had the capacity to turn to full account. He possessed many of the requisites for success in action; great experience, a quick eye, a cool judgment. To these was united a fixedness of purpose not to be shaken by menace or entreaty; and which was only to be redeemed from the imputation of obstinacy by the extraordinary character of the circumstances in which he was placed. The reader will recall a memorable example, when La Valette insisted on defending St. Elmo to the last, in defiance not only of the remonstrance, but the resistance of its garrison. Another equally pertinent is his refusal, though in opposition to his council, to abandon the town and retire to St. Angelo. One can hardly doubt that on his decision, in both these cases, rested the fate of Malta.

La Valette was of a serious turn, and, as it would seem, with a tendency to sadness in his temperament. In the portraits that remain of him, his noble features are touched with a shade of melancholy, which, taken in connection with his history, greatly heightens the interest of their expression. His was not the buoyant temper, the flow of animal spirits, which carries a man over every obstacle in his way. Yet he could comfort the sick, and cheer the desponding; not by making light of danger, but by encouraging them like brave men fearlessly to face it. He did not delude his followers by the promises -after he had himself found them to be delusive-of foreign succor. He taught them, instead, to rely on the succor of the Almighty, who would never desert those who were fighting in his cause. He infused into them the spirit of martyrs,-that brave spirit which, arming the soul with contempt of death, makes the weak man stronger than the strongest.

From "Philip II.”

THE MAHOMETAN CORSAIR.

PRESCOTT.

THE Corsair's life was full of maritime adventure. Many a tale of tragic interest was told of his exploits, and many a sad recital of the sufferings of the Christian captive, tugging at the oar, or pining in the