unequalled interest of the Scottish insurrection in 1745, by means of which this last and most heroic Prince of the Stuart race sought to regain the lost throne of his fathers. This insurrection forms an episode in English history of rare and romantic interest, and has furnished a stirring theme to many an eminent writer. It has been fully described by John Home, and by Sir Walter Scott, in his Tales of a Grandfather; and some of its incidents have been wrought into the fascinating narrative of Waverley. It has also employed the historic pen of Smollett, Chambers, and Lord Mahon; and has been minutely illustrated in several Lives of the Pretenders, and in numerous Memoirs of the Jacobites. But in none of these, we believe, however superior they may be in historic fullness, has it been so graphically and thrillingly portrayed as in the article before us.

The Stuart family had long been residing in the Papal States, when, early in the year 1744, Charles Edward, the grandson of James II., and the elder son of the Chevalier St. George, was secretly summoned to Paris by Louis XV., who was then meditating a descent upon England, and was desirous of making use of the partisan hostility of the disaffected Jacobites who were scattered over the kingdom. On his arrival at the French capital, he was hurried to Dunkirk, where a large fleet, with a military force under the command of Marshal Saxe, was in readiness for the enterprise. The young Prince, having been furnished with papers from his father commending him to his adherents, embarked with the Marshal, and the expedition proceeded to sea. But the evil fortune which had long hung over his race was again to frustrate his plans and to delay his hopes. The fleet, closely watched by that of England, was driven from its course, and, just on the eve of an engagement, was scattered and disabled by a storm. The Prince, disappointed though not disheartened at the failure of the expedition, still lingered in France, and early in the following year, wearied with waiting, formed and matured the design of proceeding to Scotland without the aid of the French King, and by rallying the Jacobites of the North, and especially the Highland clans, of making one desperate effort to secure the throne of England. Having provided himself with two ships, he embarked in July, 1745, with eight followers, with slender equipments and still more slender finances; and after losing one of his vessels in an engagement with an English frigate, he landed at Moidart, one of the most desolate islands along the Scottish coast. Here he is visited by the chiefs of the neighboring clans, who openly

express to him their entire distrust of the enterprise which he has conceived, and their amazement at the rashness of the undertaking. But nothing can withstand the contagion of his enthusiasm, and the eloquence of his appeals; and, one after another, they yield to his persuasions, even against the sober convictions of their cooler judgments, and at length pledge their utmost support to the seemingly hopeless cause in which he has embarked. In a few days the royal standard of the Stuarts is unfurled amidst the assembled clans at Glenfinnan, and the Prince, strengthened at every step by fresh accessions from the Highland clans, and by the arrival of adherents of every degree from the cities and villages of Scotland, commences his march towards the border. Perth receives him with loyal submission, and its wealthy and powerful Duke joins his own retainers to the Highland army. Sir John Cope, the commander of the forces of the King, marches against him, but avoids a battle; and while the Provost and the Council of Edinburgh were deliberating upon the terms of surrender he had proposed, his brave Highlanders entered the city, and unfurled the white flag of the Stuarts from the towers of Holyrood Palace.

Thus established in the ancient dwelling-place of his ancestors, the court of Charles Edward is soon crowded with the gay, the chivalrous, and the beautiful, who are delighted with the grace and beauty of his person, and the royal dignity of his manners. The King, on the arrival of the Pretender in Scotland, was absent from the realm, on a visit to his Hanoverian dominions, and now hastened back to his capital, determined, if necessary, to place himself at the head of his army, and drive his enemy from the country. enemy from the country. The Cabinet had already offered a reward of £30,000 for the head of Charles; and the Prince in return had offered a like sum for the head of the Hanoverian usurper. All England was stupefied with the panic which was thus created, and multitudes of the inhabitants were evidently waiting to join whichever party should prove successful. The alarm which had taken possession of the popular mind was soon increased by the defeat of Sir John Cope in the battle of Preston, and by the rumors of aid from France which were circulated through the realm.

The Prince, flushed with the unexpected success which had hitherto attended his arms, was eager to hasten forward to London, and secure the throne and the crown which he had been taught to believe were the hereditary and indefeasible right of his family. In vain did his councillors urge upon

him the importance of first making himself strong in Scotland, and of overthrowing every monument of the Hanoverian dynasty which existed there. His impatient spirit would brook no delay, and he resolved immediately to march his army across the border. It was on the 31st of October, 1745, that Charles Edward, leaving the halls of Holyrood, never again to be pressed by the footsteps of a Stuart, departed from Edinburgh in the prosecution of his daring enterprise. His little army, of less than six thousand men, gathered almost wholly from the Highland clans, filled with his own enthusiasm, and thinking only of their duty to their long-exiled Prince, pour themselves with resistless impetuosity across the Tweed, and roll the tide of their wild warfare over the northern counties of England. He leads them on through a panic-stricken region to the town of Derby, within a hundred and twenty miles of London, and is already meditating the manner in which he shall make his entry into the capital, when the chiefs of the clans, seeing the hopelessness of the cause, refused to advance further, and forced him to return to Scotland. From that moment the prestige of the Prince is gone for ever, the terror which his reckless invasion had occasioned is dissipated, and, with dejected spirits, he leads back his army, leaving the glittering prize of all his hopes still in the undisturbed possession of the enemy of his house. He is rapidly followed in his retreat by the forces of the King, under the Duke of Cumberland; and although he more than once rallies his heroic Highlanders, and gains a victory in the battle of Falkirk, yet he is finally defeated on the fatal field of Culloden, and escapes the sword of his pursuer only to become a fugitive and a wanderer-to conceal himself in the huts of fishermen and the dens of robbers; to travel in disguises, and subsist by the charity of his adherents, until he is rescued by a French ship and borne away an outcast from the land where he had hoped to rule as king.

Such is a brief outline of what may well be denominated the most remarkable enterprise in the modern annals of England. It was undertaken with a rashness and daring, and carried forward with an energy and heroism, which give to the narrative that records it the semblance of fiction rather than of sober history. It displayed in the character of the young Prince a courage and magnanimity, a generosity, fortitude, and humanity, that enlist our warmest admiration and sympathy, and for the time make us almost forget the duplicity and treachery, the selfishness, meanness, and tyranny which had always characterized his ill-starred race. But the enter

prise borrows many of its most romantic features from the wild chivalry of the mountain clans, "the children of poetry, gallantry, and song," who at the summons of Charles rushed from their secluded retreats, with a dauntless heroism and an unswerving loyalty that bore them unchecked almost to the very gates of London. It was the breaking forth of the prowess which had long been nursed in the bosoms of the Highland race; the last exhibition of the heroic sentiments of feudal loyalty, ere they perished for ever from the nations of Europe. Fortunate indeed was it both for England and for Scotland, for the adherents of Charles Edward and the subjects of George II., that the career of the Prince was checked ere it reached a successful termination; for had he entered the capital and secured the crown, it would have been but the beginning of another drama of civil war, terminating only in another expulsion of the Stuart race, who in a hundred trials had proved themselves the unchanging representatives of arbitrary power, the relentless executors of civil and religious tyranny.

Mr. Greene invests the character of Charles Edward with all the romantic interest which his singular adventures are so well fitted to inspire; but though he alludes to his subsequent career, he draws a veil over the melancholy decline to which his later years were subjected, and the humiliation in which his life was at length brought to a close. The estimate which he furnishes of him is alike charitable and just. Without attempting to draw a full portrait of his character, or to weigh his qualities in an accurate balance, he recites the story of his heroic enterprise, and mentions the principles and feelings which it called into action; and then leaves us to contemplate him as he sinks, "by a gradual though premature decay, till at length, abandoned by the world and forgotten of all, save a few devoted followers, whose truth held out to the last, he expired at Rome, on the 31st of January, 1788." To this brief record of the close of his life, we may add the testimony of Sir Walter Scott, that "Charles Edward, the adventurous, the gallant, and the handsome, the leader of a race of pristine valor, whose romantic qualities may be said to have died along with him, had in his latter days yielded to those humiliating habits of intoxication in which the meanest mortals seek to drown the recollection of their disappointments and miseries..... Amid these clouds was at length extinguished the torch which once shook itself over Britain with such terrific glare; and at last sunk in its own ashes, scarcely remembered and scarcely noted."

Were it not that our space is already exhausted, we would gladly add to this imperfect notice of the volume before us, our humble though earnest commendation of the Historical Studies to which it forms so agreeable a contribution. These studies, we are happy to perceive, are becoming more and more highly appreciated among all classes of men who care to study at all, and are now employing in their exclusive service many of the most cultivated intellects of the age. The occurrences of every day in the mighty drama of the world's affairs, are creating new demands for that knowledge of the past which they alone can supply; and the experience of every scholar who has pursued them, however humbly, in any profession or walk of life, bears constant testimony to their inestimable value as a means of liberal culture, and a source of practical wisdom.

ART. VII. THE CHURCHES NORTH AND SOUTH IN THEIR RELATION TO THE UNION OF THE STATES.

Speech of the Hon. Henry Clay, of Kentucky, on presenting his Compromise Resolutions on the subject of Slavery. Delivered in the United States Senate, Feb. 5th and 6th, 1850. Speech of the Hon. J. C. Calhoun on the subject of Slavery. March 4th, 1850.

Speech of the Hon. Daniel Webster. March 7th, 1850.

Speech of the Hon. William H. Seward. March 8th, 1850. Speech of the Hon. Lewis Cass. March 13th and 14th, 1850.

THE providence of God may say to a people: "Go forward," whilst their wisest counsellors may utterly fail of agreement as to the fitting line of march, and the law of the common equipment. The cry of millions of freemen, flushed with the prosperity of the past, and the brilliant promise of the future, may be like the voice of many waters, in its unanimous and monotonous demand of "PROGRESS." And yet, when the natural and inevitable questions follow: "WHITHERWARD?" and "How ?" the old unanimity may be at once converted into the most tempestuous dissonance, and the tides of opposing interests, and the blasts of antagonistic opinion, make the whole scene like that where of old an