cult, I have seen surprising effects from magnetism. I have succeeded in three different cases of dropsy, cured them radically without any other remedy, and the patients, when I undertook them, were pronounced incurable by skilful physicians, who had exhausted all the resources of their art. I do not infer that every kind of dropsy is curable by magnetism, I only affirm having cured it in three instances. Two of long standing required a very protracted treatment; the third, and more recent, only a month. Dropsy is often the result of some organic disorder, as M. Covissart has proved, in his Treatise on the Heart. In such cases, I do not believe magnetism, or any other remedy, can cure it. I have witnessed extraordinary effects from magnetism in the gout ascending into the head, stomach, or lungs. I have successfully employed it on four different occasions, when the patient was suffering excruciating pain, and succeeded each time in recalling the complaint to the extremities within an hour."

The following, amongst other cases, came under the observation of the writer of this paper. A man near Camberwell, named Berry, was afflicted with paralysis and deprivation of sight: he was under the care of an eminent oculist and physician many months, without obtaining any relief; magnetical treatment, continued a few weeks, restored him to perfect health. Hugh Childs, of Grove Lane, Camberwell, fell and dislocated his shoulder, which was immediately set; but a pain remained in the arm, with extreme weakness, insomuch that he was incapable of using it. A medical man, after four months' ineffectual attendance, said that he could do no more for him, and that time and patience were the only remedies, when he had recourse to magnetism, which in ten days effected a cure. An elderly lady at Islington had not slept more than three hours in four days, and the anodyne draughts prescribed came from the stomach immediately upon being taken. Her apothecary recommended magnetical treatment, which was applied for an hour, and

the following night she enjoyed a refreshing sleep of five hours. Its subsequent application effected a perfect cure.

Animal magnetism may be beneficial in all diseases, but no one asserts that it cures all cases of disease. It is a powerful therapeutic aid, but it is not omnipotent. In diseases that are not curable it will often relieve and assuage pain when no other means are of avail. The disorder of George the Fourth was incurable, and the application of medical assistance, though probably it protracted existence, also caused more intense suffering. The patient was in particular extremely distressed through want of sleep. It did appear to the writer of these remarks that although he might not be able to subdue the fatal complaint by magnetical treatment, relief could have been undoubtedly afforded, and suffering softened by inducing repose. But any overture to this effect would have been of course rejected by the mathematical attendants upon royalty, who considered nothing but general maxims and routine practice, and imagined that situations can never occur requiring something beyond them.

The immediate sensations under magnetical treatment are usually a numbness of the limbs, with a heaviness of the eyelids, often accompanied with an irresistible disposition to sleep, that is deliciously refreshing. Á kind of reverie succeeds, in which the imagination presents a variety of delightful objects. Many persons, who have experienced this state, describe it, by likening it to that which is felt in the heat of suminer, when withdrawn from the scorchings of a burning sun into some cool, revivifying place of repose. This condition is most pleasantly remembered, and the patient having thus experienced relief from his sufferings, waits with impatience for a repetition of the operations which produced it, although among the patients who submit to magnetical treatment, there are many who find themselves gradually relieved, and even cured, without experiencing any thing demonstrating a positive action.

IN the days of the empire, when Napoleon's glory was at its height, and the recent disruption of the ancient monarchical and aristocratic establishments of France

"Disastrous twilight shed

change

Perplexed monarchs,"

the despotic powers of Europe felt themselves constrained to institute a most rigid censorship, with a view to prevent French propagandism from finding its way into the hearts of their dominions, and arming their subjects with a portion of that revolutionary fury which had produced such disastrous results in France. But not all the vigilance of an almost Oriental despotism could prevent the electricity of thought from passing link after link through the chain of human minds, and confiscations, imprisonments, and perpetual exiles were rife in the Austrian and Prussian dominions.

Amongst the marked victims of the Austrian government was a youth named Friedrich Trauben, not yet advanced beyond his two-and-twentieth year, but of great talents and commanding eloquence-possessed, in short, of every attribute which could concur in forming an influential leader of the impetuous Bür. schen of Vienna. He had organized an extensive and powerful secret confederation, whose existence the most unforeseen treachery had disclosed to the government. Receiving a timely warning of the fate which momentarily awaited him, he had been constrained to take refuge in France. Paris was of course his destination; and the influence of a few of his countrymen, resident in that then European metropolis, readily obtained for him the situation of secretaire-interprète to M. de Marly-one of Napoleon's councillors of state, and a man of great consideration at the imperial court. Friedrich's great talents had made him extremely use

restoration to his father-land. Often had he applied to M. de Marly to procure the removal of his proscription by diplomatic intervention-for the governments of Paris and Vienna were then upon passable terms of understanding, and the projected marriage of Napoleon to MariaLouisa was whispered at the French court. But the councillor turned a deaf ear to all Friedrich's entreaties, for the very sufficient reason that the youth had evinced too much capacity

too docile and laborious a spiritto render it at all convenient to dispense with his services. A peremptory and final negative from the councillor made Friedrich determine never more to address him on the subject; and, while high principle prevented him from abating his attention to the councillor's affairs, his melancholy was but deepened in its intensity.

The councillor was married to a very young and lovely woman, connected by blood with the ancien regime, in accordance with that portion of Napoleon's policy, which aimed at consolidating his dynasty as much as possible by allying his

men of the empire" with the old and illustrious families of France. The councillor's almost constant admixture with affairs of state, the unwearied assiduity with which he participated in the "hurly-burly" of secret political discussions, his strong personal ambition, and eager desire of aggrandizement, made him the very reverse of a domestic man. Between him and his beautiful bride there existed but little sympathy; and, when the latter appeared with him at court, the only feeling with which De Marly regarded her was

that of flattered vanity and reflected distinction.

Under such circumstances, no one will be surprised that Madame de Marly did not survey the councillor's interesting young secretary with eyes of indifference, but on the contrary felt a high degree of esteem for his character, and of respect for the shade of melancholy which clouded his personal history. To this was added no small portion of that feminine curiosity which in all ages and countries takes such an amazing pleasure in penetrating a piquant veil of mystery.

His

Friedrich Trauben's face was still more youthful than his years. His complexion was so pure, and his features so delicate, that he appeared scarcely nineteen years of age. countenance was open and engaging, his physiognomy pleasing in the extreme. His long light brown hair, divided on his forehead after the manner of the German students, fell in numerous ringlets on his neck; his profile, very unlike that of the vast bulk of his countrymen, was of almost antique purity; his large blue eyes were surcharged with melancholy; and a sad, sweet smile almost uniformly played upon his lips. His figure was slender, but neat and gentlemanly, and his easy carriage lost nothing of its grace under the simple clothes which he wore. His costume, strictly in accordance with that of the German universities-for he was too true a Deutschlander to subdue his Bürschen reminiscences of Vaterland-consisted of a frock-coat of a rather coarse blue material, pantaloons of the same stuff, and large black boots which came up almost as far as the knees.

One evening that the councillor was wholly occupied in secret conclave with Napoleon, Madame de Marly, seated in one of her saloons, enjoyed the, to her, delightful plea sure of hearing Friedrich sing some of his native melodies, with a fine tenor voice, of which he perfectly understood the manage

ment.

At the conclusion of one of these spirited strains, Madame de Marly, addressing him in her peculiarly winning tones of voice, assured him of

the deep interest which she took in his welfare, and entreated him to admit her into his confidence, and acquaint her with the mystery which hung over his past life.

Friedrich murmured a few indistinct words in reply, and kept his eyes fixed timidly on the ground.

"

Friedrich," pursued Madame de Marly; " "why do you refuse me this proof of your confidence? Do not attribute my request, I beseech you, to indiscreet curiosity, but rather to the most lively interest in your future fortunes, and the most sincere desire to serve you."

Overcome by this kindness, "Alas! Madame," replied Friedrich, in a tone of indefinable melancholy, "what shall I say to you? There is nothing in my past life that can merit from you a moment's attention. My misfortunes have been vulgar, sordid, monotonous. life has been that of the poor and the orphan, in all its sad uniformity. In my griefs, Madame," he added with bitterness, "there has been not one particle of poetry or sublimation."

My

"Do you then wish to reproach me?" was Madame de Marly's gentle reply. "Is the vulgar desire of amusement the interpretation which you put upon my question?"—After a short silence she added: "You are right, I should not have made this request. It is only those who are happy that can look to the past with an eye of satisfaction or indifference. Alas! for the unfortunate every remembrance is a regret."

"Yes," replied Friedrich, with an air of deep determination, "but the wretch who reckons his years by his sufferings, can console himself by reflecting that each day his earthly task advances to its close!"

The look which he wore was that of resigned despair, and a tear trembled in Madame de Marly's eyes. Perceiving this tribute of silent sympathy, Friedrich added: "But, after all, Madame, I shall never be able to repay you for your kindness; and this is to me a new regret. You are the first-the only person that has ever condescended to give me a word of pity."

"Of pity!" echoed the lady, with a strong negative emphasis on the word.

66

"However the sad relation," added Friedrich, may harrow up my heart, I owe it to my benefactress."

"Ah! I can well understand the susceptibility of delicate minds. But be assured-I am not altogether unworthy of your confidence. Are not suffering souls sisters in affliction?" added Madame de Marly, lowering at the same moment both her voice and her eyes.

Friedrich seemed not to hear her, and commenced his recital in the following terms :—

"I lost my father whilst I was yet an infant. He filled the humble but respectable post of receiver of imposts in a burg not far from Vienna. My mother survived him but for a short time. After his death, she concentrated all her tenderness on me. The sole remembrances of my infancy date from that period. I waked at times by night, and found my mother almost uniformly in tears, clad in her mourning garments, seated near me, and regarding me with a look of fixed anxiety. I have piously preserved some lines traced by her hand during these tedious watchings. I was not able to read them until a somewhat later period: ́A secret presentiment warned her,' she said, 'that there was but little time left her to live, and this brief interval she was determined to pass in gazing on her infant, depriving herself for that purpose of sleep. She would soon sleep but too much !'"

"Poor mother!" ejaculated Madame de Marly, wiping away a tear.

Friedrich continued in a tremulous tone of voice:-" Alas! she was not deceived, Madame! Her year of mourning had not expired when I lost my mother. I was left an orphan without the slightest provision. The pastor of my native burg received me through charity, for I had not one living relation in the world. This minister was the best of men; his disposition was of wonderful sweetness, his piety perfectly angelic. But unfortunately for me, his wife's character was the very re

verse of all this. She saw with feelings of bitter hatred her husband lavishing on me almost the same care and tenderness which he expended on his own children. It is useless to tell you, Madame, how much I suffered then. Much, much indeed! for I had rather have died than complained, rather have suffered any amount of torture than acquaint my benefactor with the repulsive treatment which I experienced from his wife, and thus have probably embittered his days. Unfortunately too, the minister's two children were fiercely jealous of me like their mother. All the advances which I made towards them were repelled with disdain, and with cold contempt they kept themselves aloof from the 'poor beggar;' then I went to pray and weep on my mother's tomb!

"The good minister, wrapt up in his studies, and in the discharge of his pastoral duties, was ignorant of all that passed. At first he reproached me gently for my sad and solitary temper. His sons, more perhaps through playful cunning than malice, told him that it was I that fled from their society, not they who shunned mine; and their mother, far from exposing this falsehood, confirmed their complaints. By degrees, the good pastor's remonstrances grew more serious, and I began to perceive that he treated me with coldness. I do not accuse him,-my God! I do not accuse him. He believed me to have been guilty of the most indefensible conduct towards his children. Alas! how wretched this discovery made me. He was my sole protector-my only friend in this world. I endeavoured by every possible means to gain the good-will of his family, but in vain. Seeing this, I resolved to try a last resource. Taking no manner of pleasure in the customary sports of my age, which I was obliged to partake of alone whenever I courted that délassement, I had sought in the pursuits of study some distraction from.my various chagrins and annoyances; and then the good minister was so delighted at my success, that I applied myself to my