reign purposes."

After passing another tedious night on board, owing to our being
becalmed within the Needles, I stepped upon the same landing stone from
which I first embarked for a country, where, in the centre of
proscriptions, instability and desolation, those arts which are said to
flourish only in the regions of repose, have, by their vigour and
unrivalled bloom, excited the wonder and admiration of surrounding
nations; where Peace, by her sudden and cherished reappearance, is
calling forth all the virtues from their hiding places, to aid in
effacing the corroding stains of a barbarous revolution, and in
restoring the moral and social character to its pristine polish, rank
and estimation.

GENERAL REMARKS.

The fact seems at first singular. Two of the greatest nations under
Heaven, whose shores almost touch, and, if ancient tales be true, were
once unsevered, call the natives of each other foreigners.

Jealousy, competition, and consequent warfare, have, for ages, produced
an artificial distance and separation, much wider, and more impassable,
than nature ever intended, by the division which she has framed; hence,
whilst the unassisted eye of the islander can, from his own shores, with
"unwet feet," behold the natural barrier of his continental neighbour,
he knows but little more of his real character and habits, than of those
of beings, who are more distantly removed from him, by many degrees of
the great circle.

The events which have happened in France for the last eleven years, have
rendered this separation more severe, and during that long and gloomy
interval, have wholly changed the national character. Those who once
occupied the higher class in the ascending scale of society, and who
have survived the revolution without leaving their country, are no
longer able to display the taste and munificence which once
distinguished them. In the capital, those who formerly were accustomed
to have their court yards nightly filled with carriages, and their
staircases lined with lacqueys, are now scarcely able to occupy one
third of their noble abodes. They cannot even enjoy the common
observances of friendship, and hospitality, without pausing, and
resorting to calculation. A new race of beings called the "nouveaux
enriches," whose services have been chiefly auxiliary to the war, at
present absorb the visible wealth of the nation. Amongst them are many
respectable persons. The lower orders of the people h