hese
extreme points. The age, however, that has least poetry has most
science, and _vice versa_.

But man, unlike the other denizens of the earth, has power over his
own destiny. He is able to cultivate the poetical as if it were a
plant; and if once convinced of its important bearing upon his
enjoyment of the world, he will do so. The imagination may be educated
as well as the moral sense, and the result of the advancement of the
one as well as the other is an expansion of the mind, and an
enlargement of the capacity for happiness. The grand obstacle is
precisely what we have now endeavoured to aid in removing--the common
mistake as to the nature of the poetical, which it is customary to
consider as something remote from, or antagonistic to, the business of
life. So far from this, it is essentially connected with the moral
feelings. It neutralises the conventionalisms of society, and makes
the whole world kin. It enlarges the circle of our sympathies, till
they comprehend, not only our own kind, but every living thing, and
not only animate beings, but all created nature.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See _Journal_, No. 425. Article, 'Dibdin's Sailor-Songs.'

[2] Tennyson.

A DUEL IN 1830.

I had just arrived at Marseilles with the diligence, in which three
young men, apparently merchants or commercial travellers, were the
companions of my journey. They came from Paris, and were enthusiastic
about the events which had lately happened there, and in which they
boasted of having taken part. I was, for my part, quiet and reserved;
for I thought it much better, at a time of such political excitement
in the south of France, where party passions always rise so high,
to do nothing that would attract attention; and my three
fellow-travellers no doubt looked on me as a plain, common-place
seaman, who had been to the luxurious metropolis for his pleasure or
on business. My presence, it seemed, did not incommode them, for they
talked on as if I had not been there. Two of them were gay, merry, but
rather coarse boon-companions; the third, an elegant youth, blooming
and tall, with luxuriant black curling hair, and dark soft eyes. In
the hotel where we dined, and where I sat a little distance off,
smoking my cigar, the conversation turned on various love-adventures,
and the young man, whom they called Alfred, shewed his comrades a
packet of delicately perfumed letters, and a superb lock of beautiful
fair hair.

He told them, t