of the suspicions occasionally entertained of his fidelity to the Christians. It is not easy to depict the portrait of Montezuma in its true colors, since it has been exhibited to us under two aspects, of the most opposite and contradictory character. In the accounts gathered of him by the Spaniards, on coming into the country, he was uniformly represented as bold and warlike, unscrupulous as to the means of gratifying his ambition, hollow and perfidious, the terror of his foes, with a haughty bearing which made him feared even by his own people. They found him, on the contrary, not merely affable and gracious, but disposed to waive all the advantages of his own position, and to place them on a footing with himself; making their wishes his law; gentle even to effeminacy in his deportment, and constant in his friendship, while his whole nation was in arms against them. Yet these traits, so contradictory, were truly enough drawn. They are to be explained by the extraordinary circumstances of his position. When Montezuma ascended the throne he was scarcely twenty-three years of age. Young, and ambitious of extending his empire, he was continually engaged in war, and is said to have been present himself in nine pitched battles. He was greatly renowned for his martial prowess, for he belonged to the Quachictin, the highest military order of his nation, and one into which but few even of its sovereigns had been admitted. In later life, he preferred intrigue to violence, as more consonant to his character and priestly education. In this he was as great an adept as any prince of his time, and, by arts not very honorable to himself, succeeded in filching away much of the territory of his royal kinsman of Tezcuco. Severe in the administration of justice, he made important reforms in the arrangement of the tribunals. He introduced other innovations in the royal household, creating new offices, introducing a lavish magnificence and forms of courtly etiquette unknown to his ruder predecessors. He was, in short, most attentive to all that concerned the exterior and pomp of royalty. Stately and decorous, he was careful of his own dignity, and might be said to be as great an "actor of majesty" among the barbarian potentates of the New World, as Louis the Fourteenth was among the polished princes of Europe. He was deeply tinctured, moreover, with that spirit of bigotry, which threw such a shade over the latter days of the French monarch. He received the Spaniards as the beings predicted by his oracles. The anxious dread, with which he had evaded their proffered visit, was founded on the same feelings which led him so blindly to resign himself to them on their approach. He felt himself rebuked by their superior genius. He at once conceded all that they demanded, his treasures, his power, even his person. For their sake, he forsook his wonted occupation, his pleasures, his most familiar habits. He might be said to forego his nature; and, as his subjects asserted, to change his sex and become a woman. If we cannot refuse our contempt for the pusillanimity of the Aztec monarch, it should be mitigated by the consideration, that his pusillanimity sprung from his superstition, and that superstition in the savage is the substitute for religious principle in the civilized man. It is not easy to contemplate the fate of Montezuma without feelings of the strongest compassion; -to see him thus borne along the tide of events beyond his power to avert or control; to see him, like some stately tree, the pride of his own Indian forests, towering aloft in the pomp and majesty of its branches, by its very eminence à mark for the thun derbolt, the first victim of the tempest which was to sweep over its native hills! When the wise king of Tezcuco addressed his royal relative at his coronation, he exclaimed, "Happy the empire, which is now in the meridian of its prosperity, for the sceptre is given to one whom the Almighty has in his keeping; and the nations shall hold him in reverence!" Alas! the subject of this auspicious invocation lived to see his empire melt away like the winter's wreath; to see a strange race drop, as it were, from the clouds on his land; to find himself a prisoner in the palace of his fathers, the companion of those who were the enemies of his gods and his people; to be insulted, reviled, trodden in the dust, by the meanest of his subjects, by those who, a few months previous, had trembled at his glance; drawing his last breath in the halls of the stranger,-a lonely outcast in the heart of his own capital! He was the sad victim of destiny,-a destiny as dark and irresistible in its march, as that which broods over the mythic legends of Antiquity! MONTEZUMA'S WAY OF LIFE-FROM THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO. The domestic establishment of Montezuma was on the same scale of barbaric splendor as every thing else about him. He could boast as many wives as are found in the harem of an Eastern sultan. They were lodged in their own apartments, and provided with every accommodation, according to their ideas, for personal comfort and cleanliness. They passed their hours in the usual feminine employments of weaving and embroidery, especially in the graceful feather-work, for which such rich materials were furnished by the royal aviaries. They conducted themselves with strict decorum, under the supervision of certain aged females, who acted in the respectable capacity of duennas, in the same manner as in the religious houses attached to the teocallis. The palace was supplied with numerous baths, and Montezuma set the example, in his own person, of frequent ablutions. He bathed at least once, and changed his dress four times, it is said, every day. He never put on the same apparel a second tine, but gave it away to his attendants. Queen Elizabeth, with a similar taste for costume, showed a less princely spirit in hoarding her discarded suits. Her wardrobe was, probably, somewhat more costly than that of the Indian emperor. Besides his numerous female retinue, the halls and antechambers were filled with nobles in constant attendance on his person, who served also as a sort of body-guard. It had been usual for plebeians of merit to fill certain offices in the palace. But the haughty Montezuma refused to be waited upon by any but men of noble birth. They were not unfrequently the sons of the great chiefs, and remained as hostages in the absence of their fathers; thus serving the double purpose of security and state. His meals the en pe or took alone. The wellmatted floor of a large saloon was covered with hundreds of dishes. Sometimes Montezuma himself, but more frequently his steward, indicated those which he preferred, and which were kept hot by means of chafing-dishes. The royal bill of fare comprehended, besides domestic animals, game from the distant forests, and fish which, the day before, was swimming in the Gulf of Mexico! They were dressed in manifold ways, for the Aztec artistes, as we have already had occasion to notice, had penetrated deep into the mysteries of culinary science. The meats were served by the attendant nobles, who then resigned the office of waiting on the monarch to maidens selected for their personal grace and beauty. A screen of richly gilt and carved wood was drawn around him, so as to conceal him from vulgar eyes during the repast. He was seated on a cushion, and the dinner was served on a low table covered with a delicate cotton cloth. The dishes were of the finest ware of Cholula. He had a service of gold, which was reserved for religious celebrations. Indeed, it would scarcely have comported with even his princely revenues to have used it on ordinary occasions, when his table equipage was not allowed to appear a second time, but was given away to his attendants. The saloon was lighted by torches made of a resinous wood, which sent forth a sweet odor and, probably, not a little smoke, as they burned. At his meal, he was attended by five or six of his ancient counsellors, who stood at a respectful distance, answering his questions, and occasionally rejoiced by some of the viands with which he complimented them from his table. This course of solid dishes was succeeded by another of sweetmeats and pastry, for which the Aztec cooks, provided with the important requisites of maize-flour, eggs, and the rich sugar of the aloe, were famous. Two girls were occupied at the further end of the apartment, during dinner, in preparing fine rolls and wafers, with which they garnished the board from time to time. The emperor took no other beverage than the chocolatl, a potation of chocolate, flavored with vanilla and other spices, and so prepared as to be reduced to a froth of the consistency of honey, which gradually dissolved in the mouth. This beverage, if so it could be called, was served in golden goblets, with spoons of the same metal or of tortoise-shell finely wrought. The emperor was exceedingly fond of it, to judge from the quantity, no less than fifty jars or pitchers being prepared for his own daily consumption! Two thousand more were allowed for that of his household. The general arrangement of the meal seems to have been not very unlike that of Europeans. But no prince in Europe could boast a dessert which could compare with that of the Aztec emperor. For it was gathered fresh from the most opposite climes; and his board displayed the products of his own temperate region, and the luscious fruits of the tropics, plucked, the day previous, from the green groves of the tierra calliente, and transmitted with the speed of steam, by means of couriers, to the capital. It was as if some kind fairy should crown our banquets with the spicy products that but yesterday were growing in a sunny isle of the far-off Indian seas! After the royal appetite was appeased, water was handed to him by the female attendants in a silver basin, in the same manner as had been done before commencing his meal; for the Aztecs were as constant in their ablutions, at these times, as any nation of the East. Pipes were then brought, made of a varnished and richly gilt wood, from which he inhaled, sometimes through the nose, at others through the mouth, the fumes of an intoxicating weed, "called tobacco," mingled with liquid-amber. While this soothing process of fumigation was going on, the emperor enjoyed the exhibitions of his mountebanks and jugglers, of whom a regular corps was attached to the palace. No people, not even those of China or Hindostan, surpassed the Aztecs in feats of agility and legerdemain. Sometimes he amused himself with his jester; for the Indian monarch had his jesters, as well as his more refined brethren of Europe, at that day. Indeed, he used to say, that more instruction was to be gathered from them than from wiser men, for they dared to tell the truth. At other times, he witnessed the graceful dances of his women, or took delight in listening to music,—if the rude minstrelsy of the Mexicans deserve that name,-accompanied by a VOL. II.-16 chant, in a slow and solemn cadence, celebrating the heroic deeds of great Aztec warriors, or of his own princely line. When he had sufficiently refreshed his spirits with these diversions, he composed himself to sleep, for in his siesta he was as regular as a Spaniard. On awaking, he gave audience to ambassadors from foreign states, or his own tributary cities, or to such caciques as had suits to prefer to him. They were introduced by the young nobles in attendance, and, whatever might be their rank, unless of the blood royal, they were obliged to submit to the humiliation of shrouding their rich dresses under the coarse mantle of nequen, and entering barefooted, with downcast eyes, into the presence. The emperor addressed few and brief remarks to the suitors, answering them generally by his secretaries; and the parties retired with the same reverential obeisance, taking care to keep their faces turned towards the monarch. Well might Cortés exclaim, that no court, whether of the Grand Seignior or any other infidel, ever displayed so pompous and elaborate a ceremonial! Besides the crowd of retainers already noticed, the royal household was not complete without a host of artisans constantly employed in the erection or repair of buildings, besides a great number of jewellers and persons skilled in working metals, who found abundant demand for their trinkets among the darkeyed beauties of the harem. The imperial mummers and jugglers were also very numerous, and the dancers belonging to the palace occupied a particular district of the city, appropriated exclusively to them. The maintenance of this little host, amounting to some thousands of individuals, involved a heavy expenditure, requiring accounts of a complicated, and, to a simple people, it might well be, embarrassing nature. Every thing, however, was conducted with perfect order; and all the various receipts and disbursements were set down in the picture-writing of the country. The arithmetical characters were of a more refined and conventional sort than those for narrative purposes; and a separate apartment was filled with hieroglyphical ledgers, exhibiting a complete view of the economy of the palace. The care of all this was intrusted to a treasurer, who acted as a sort of major-domo in the household, having a general superintendence over all its concerns. This responsible office, on the arrival of the Spaniards, was in the hands of a trusty cacique named Tapia. Such is the picture of Montezuma's domestic establishment and way of living, as delineated by the Conquerors and their immediate followers, who had the best means of information; too highly colored, it may be, by the proneness to exaggerate, which was natural to those who first witnessed a spectacle so striking to the imagination, so new and unexpected. I have thought it best to present the full details, trivial though they may seem to the reader, as affording a curious picture of manners, so superior in point of refinement to those of the other Aboriginal tribes on the North American continent. Nor are they, in fact, so trivial, when we reflect, that, in these details of private life, we possess a surer measure of civilization, than in those of a public nature. In surveying them we are strongly reminded of the civilization of the East; not of that higher, intellectual kind which belonged to the more polished Arabs and the Persians, but that semi-civilization which has distinguished, for example, the Tartar races, among whom art, and even science, have made, indeed, some progress in their adaptation to material wants and sensual gratification, but little in reference to the higher and more ennobling interests of humanity. It is characteristic of such a people, to find a puerile pleasure in dazzling and ostentatious pageantry; to mistake show for substance; vain pomp for power; to hedge round the throne itself with a barren and burdensome ceremonial, the counterfeit of real majesty. Even this, however, was an advance in refinement, compared with the rude manners of the earlier Aztecs. The change may, doubtless, be referred in some degree to the personal influence of Montezuma. In his younger days, he had tempered the fierce habits of the soldier with the milder profession of religion. In later life, he had withdrawn himself still more from the brutalizing occupations of war, and his manners acquired a refinement tinctured, it may be added, with an effeminacy, unknown to his martial predecessors. CHARLES FOLLEN. Grand Dukedom, had, with the consent of the government, contracted large debts. The interest was regularly paid, and the creditors were satisfied, but advantage was taken of the circumstance after the peace, to deprive these corporations of the right of self-government on the plea that their expenditures had been extravagant. A law to this effect was published July 9. The communities applied to Follen to draw up a petition to the Grand Duke for its repeal. He did so; the document was presented, and at the same time made public through the press, and caused so strong an expression of public opinion that the law was soon repealed. He next drew up a petition asking for the fulfilment of the promise of a constitutional government made at the Congress of Vienna. These acts were so distasteful to those in authority that Follen was obliged to remove to Jena, where he delivered a course of lectures in the winter of 1818-19 on the Pandects of Justinian. In March the assassination of Kotzebue by Sand aroused the country. Follen was arrested in May as an accomplice, examined and discharged; but again arrested in October, confronted with Sand at Mannheim and acquitted, but forbidden to lecture at Jena. He retired to Giessen, but hearing that fresh persecutions were impending from the government, resolved to leave Germany. He escaped to Strasburg, where he passed some time in the study of architecture with his uncle Muller, who was employed by the government to make drawings of the Roman remains extant in the town. CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN FOLLEN was born September 4th, 1796, at Romröd, in the Grand Duchy of Hesse Darmstadt. He lost his mother when he was three years old, but her place was supplied, so far as possible, by the tender care of his father's second wife. His intercourse with both these parents was always of the most affectionate nature, and maintained after his separation from them by frequent correspondence. He was educated at the college or pedagogium, and afterwards at the University of Giessen, and chose the law as his profession. While he was at the University the German War of Liberation broke out, and Charles Follen, with his brothers, enlisted, but was never in active service. On his return to the University he took a leading part in efforts for the improvement of the clubs of the students, endeavoring to impart to these associations a national in place of a sectional character. In March, 1818, he received his diploma as Doctor of Civil Law, and in the summer of the same year was employed in a case of national importance. C. Follen He visited Paris and became acquainted with La Fayette, but in consequence of the decree which followed the assassination of the Duc de Berri, expelling foreigners not engaged in specified pursuits from the country, was obliged to remove to Switzerland. He received an invitation from the Countess of Benzel Sternau, who sympathized with his opinions, to visit her at her country-seat on the lake of Zurich; and accepting the proffered hospitality, remained in this beautiful place until he accepted an appointment as teacher in the cantonal school at Chur in the Grisons. He resigned this charge within a year, in consequence of the complaints which were made that his religious teachings did not accord with the prevailing Calvinism of the place. He immediately received the appointment of Professor of Civil and Ecclesiastical Law at Basle, and fulfilled his duties until, by the influence of the other European powers, the authorities were induced to order his arrest. He hurried through France to Havre, embarked in the Cadmus, which a few months before had brought La Fayette to America, and landed at New York December 19, 1824. During the twenty years' continuance of the French wars the "communities" or municipal assemblies of the towns and villages of the province of Hesse, having to bear the brunt of the contest without assistance from the government of the He wrote to La Fayette, then at Washington, on his arrival, and received from him introductions to Mr. Du Ponceau and Professor George Ticknor, by whose influence he was appointed teacher of German in Harvard University in the autumn of 1825. During the winter he accepted invitations to deliver a course of lectures on Civil Law, and in 1826 opened a school for gymnastics in Boston. In the winter of 1826 and 7 he was introduced, by the lady whom he afterwards married, to Dr. Channing, with whom he soon after commenced a preparation for the ministry. He commenced preaching in July, 1828, and shortly after was made teacher of Ecclesiastical History and Ethics in the Theological School of Harvard, a temporary provision for five years having been made for the support of his German course. On the fifteenth of September of the same year he was married to Miss Eliza Lee Cabot of Boston. His German Grammar was published about the same time. In 1830 he resigned his post in the divinity school, and gave a course of lectures on Moral Philosophy in Boston. In 1831 he was inaugurated Professor of German Literature at Harvard, on which occasion he pronounced an elaborate Inaugural Address. In the winter of 1832 he delivered a series of lectures on Schiller. In these, after a brief account of the life of the author, a critical analysis is given of each of his dramas, with numerous illustrative extracts translated by the lecturer in a happy manner. The course closes with a comparison between Schiller and his great contemporary Goethe. In 1834 the subscription for the German professorship expired, and was not renewed by the University in consequence, it is said, of Dr. Follen having identified himself prominently with the Abolition party. He was therefore obliged to withdraw. In 1836 he published a tract, Religion and the Church, designed to be the first of a series, but meeting with no support he abandoned the work. In the same year he accepted an invitation to take charge of a Unitarian congregation. He remained in this position until May, 1838, when he returned to Boston. In May, 1839, he received a call to a congregation at East Lexington, Massachusetts. In December of the same year he visited New York to deliver a course of lectures on German literature. He embarked on his return in the steamboat Lexington, January 13, 1840, and was one of the many who perished by the conflagration of that vessel in Long Island Sound. Dr. Follen's works were collected and published in five volumes, in 1841. The first of these contains his life by his widow, with a selection from his poetical productions in the German language; the second, his sermons; the third, Lectures on Moral Philosophy, and an unfinished work on Psychology; the fourth, a portion, all that were written out, of his lectures on Schiller; the fifth, miscellaneous reviews and addresses. SCHILLER'S LOVE OF LIBERTY-FROM THE LECTURES ON SCHILLER. In what, now, I would ask, consists the individual literary character of Schiller as a dramatic poet? Goethe, in speaking of the individual tendency of Schiller's poetic nature and his own, said, "Schiller preached the gospel of freedom; I would not allow the rights of nature to be encroached upon." The word freedom is to be taken here in the sense of Kant's philosophy, as synonymous with the moral nature of man. His enthusiasm for freedom was manifested in his resistance against all kinds of unnatural and unreasonable restraint; freedom from oppression, from fear, from prejudice, and from sin. His love of liberty and hatred of oppression had taken root early in the unnatural discipline of the Charles Academy; it had grown by his experience of active life and the study of history. It appears as a wild, untamable impulse in Charles Moor. "The law has never formed a great man," he says, "but liberty hatches wonders and extremes." "Who is the greater tyrant," asks Fiesco, "he who shows the intention, or he who has the power, to become a tyrant?" "I hate the former, I fear the latter," answers Verrina; "let Andrea Doria die!" "Chains of iron or chains of silk,-they are chains," says Burgognino; "let Andrea Doria die!" "Restore to man his lost nobility; let no duty bind him except the equally venerable rights of his fellow-men." These are the words of Posa to the tyrant king. To the queen, when he commits to her his last message to his friend Carlos, he says, "Tell him he shall realize the bold dream of a new state, the divine offspring of friendship!" It has been justly observed (by Menzel) that Schiller's Posa maintains the rights of mankind; his Maid of Orleans fights for the rights of nations; the rights of the individual are asserted by William Tell. The second kind of freedom which I have mentioned, freedom from prejudice, appears in its healthiest, purest, and highest form, in the truly philosophic mind of Posa, while the same tendency appears in its perversion and state of insanity in the atheist, Francis Moor, who, by the chemical force of his wit, sublimates the whole substance of the moral world, respect and love, conscience and religion, into vapid prejudices, which he thinks he can blow away by the breath of his mouth. Freedom from prejudice in a more confined sphere, and more practical form, appears in Ferdinand Walter and Louisa Miller, contending for the sacred rights of the heart, against the aristocracy of Ferdinand's father and Lady Milford. The same principle appears in that scene of "William Tell," in which Rudenz, after his political conversion by Bertha, enters the house after his uncle's death, and, after being received by Walter Furst and others as their future feudal lord, aspires after the higher privilege of being considered by them as a friend of the friends of his country. When Melchthal refuses to give Rudenz his hand, Walter Furst says, Give him your hand! his returning heart Deserves confidence. Melchthal You have never respected The husbandman; say, what shall we expect from you! The farmer's hand, my noble Sir, is also Freedom from fear, is another element of Schiller's poetry. Courage, in its lower form, is the inspiring principle in "Wallenstein's Camp," while it appears as manly greatness in him who is the idol of the camp, who, when all his supports from without have dropped off, and left him a leafless trunk, feels and announces that now his time has come,-for, It must be night for Friedland's stars to shine. The same principle appears in William Tell, as a devoted trust in God, and in the goodness of his bow, his arm, and his conscience. It appears as elevated resignation in Mary Stuart, and as heroic inspiration in the Maid of Orleans. The highest form of freedom, freedom from debasing immorality, purity of heart, is so characteristic of Schiller's poetry, that we may apply to it with peculiar truth the words of Klopstock, in describing German poetry. Schiller's poetry is a chaste virgin looking up to heaven. It is this which gives, to his great dramatic pictures, the highest ideal beauty, the beauty of holiness. It is the consciousness of holy innocence which gives to the simple daughter of the musician, Miller, a sense of rank which outshines all earthly distinctions, and will appear brightest where all these walls of partition must fall. "Then, mother," she says, "when every envelope of rank bursts, when men are nothing but men, I shall bring with me nothing but my innocence. But my father says, ornaments and splendid titles will become cheap when God comes, and hearts rise in value. There, tears are accounted as triumphs, and beautiful thoughts as ancestors. Then I shall be a lady, my mother. And what advantage will he then have over his faithful girl?" This is the brightest jewel in the diadem of the Spanish Queen, Elizabeth, as the Marquis of Posa describes her to his friend. Arrayed in nature's unassuming glory, When she was far from dreaming of applause. It is the consciousness of the purity of his purpose, which enables the single-hearted hunter of the Alps to bend his peaceful bow to works of blood. It was that purity which makes the simple wise, that enabled Bertha, of Bruneck, to open the eyes of her deluded lover to the deception of which he was the object, and to his own true destiny and duty.-The Maid of Orleans, the pure virgin, was intrusted with the standard of Heaven: it was the faith in her own purity which made the sword invincible in her hand. But the power and beauty of this moral principle, the prophetic wisdom of childlike innocence, is most fully and gloriously displayed in Max and Thekla. When Max is wavering between the two ways, one of which leads to the possession of his Thekla, and is recommended to his heart by the filial gratitude he owes to her father,-while the other, pointed out by his conscience, is darkened by the treachery of his own father, and still more, by the certain loss of his highest hope in life,-it is in this moment of fearful doubt, that he says, Where is the voice of truth which I dare follow? (His eyes glance on Thekla.) Thus, when conflicting passions, interests, and fears have darkened the way of duty before us, it is the inward light, it is purity of heart which reveals the narrow path. The pure in heart see the truth, because it is they alone that see God. Schiller's enthusiasm for liberty was not a negative or destructive principle. He manifested in his poetry a striving after freedom from oppression, from fear, from prejudice, and sin, from all earthly and unreasonable restraints, that the spiritual principle of human nature might unfold itself purely and fully in the individual and in society. His love of freedom is only a manifestation of the spirit of love, of that pure delight in perfection, the love of nature, of man, and of God, which is the life of his poetry. 64 Quiet kingdom of plants! in thy silent wonders I hear the steps of the Deity; thy meritless excellence carries my inquiring mind upward to the highest understanding; in thy still mirror I see his divine image reflected. Man troubles the silver stream; where man walks, the Creator disappears." That Schiller loved in nature what excites most deeply those powers and passions which are peculiar to man, might be shown by many other passages. Who does not remember the sunset on the banks of the Danube, in "The Robbers"? "Thus is a hero's death adorable. When I was a boy, it was my favorite thought to live like the sun, to die like him. It was a boyish thought. There was a time when I could not sleep if I had forgotten my evening prayers. O my innocence! See, all have gone forth to sun themselves in the peaceful beam of spring-why must I alone inhale infernal influences from the joys of heaven? All is so happy; all beings related to each other by the spirit of peace, the whole world one family, and one Father above! not my father;-I alone rejected, alone excluded from the ranks of the pure. Not to me the sweet name of child,-not to me the languishing look of the loved one,-never, never the embrace of a bosom friend." Who does not remember the impression of the sunrise over Genoa upon the ambitious Fiesco, and that of the sunrise in the Alps upon the united Swiss? These are the words of Fiesco. "This majestic city! mine! to rise upon it like the royal day, to brood over it with a monarch's power! One moment of royalty absorbs all the marrow of human existence. Split the thunder into its elementary syllables, and it becomes a lullaby for babes; join them together into one sudden peal, and the royal sound moves the eternal heavens." In the Rütli, Rösselman, the priest, says, when he sees the morning place its glowing sentries on the mountain tops By this pure light which greets us first of all We will be free, free as our fathers were, The Swiss fisherman sees, in the fearful agitation of the lake, the power of the angel of divine vengeance, that has stirred up the deep waters against the tyrant that is floating upon them. Judgments of God! yes, it is he himself, The haughty Landvogt,-there he sails along, These rocks will not bow down their heads before The restless, homesick spirit of the Queen of Scotland soars beyond her prison, and embarks in the clouds, flitting overhead. Hastening clouds! ye sailors on high! With you I would wander, with you I would fly. Far beyond this Queen's imperious sway. In "The Misanthrope," the disappointed lover of man seeks consolation in nature. Man, noble, lofty phenomenon, most beautifu' of all the thoughts of the Creator. How rich, how perfect did you proceed from his hands! What |