again to her work, and, by her own might, brings forth a new civilization. Then, on a blessed day, the young society finds again the traces of the old one, restores and revives it, borrows its treasures, but purifies them in its crucible, and coins them with its stamp. Far from me any fatalistic opinion; I do not believe that barbarism is ever necessary or useful. The world would not proceed the less, without those fearful cataclysms that subvert and destroy the toil of ten ages. But God has provided in the bosom of humanity a refreshing strength, which restores that noble patient to health; and often, after illness, the return to life assumes an unutterable charm. Nor was the sixteenth century alone favoured with such a blessing. Several times before it, we meet in history similar revivals. Greece is a branch plucked off from the stem of Asia. Fallen into the rudeness of the Pelopida, Greece has forgotten the traditional teaching of the priesthoods of Thrace,-of Orpheus, and Linus, whose names alone are retained in fabulous legends. She grows up, also, in a salutary ignorance of the wealth of her eastern forefathers. She creates for herself her constitutions, arts, poetry, and eloquence. Then the noblest of her sons inquire after the past time. Plato visits Egypt, where he gathers the traditions of the sanctuaries; Aristotle explores the East by the hands of Alexander; and Greek philosophy is the fruit of that union of the two worlds. Rome, the Pelasgic city, daughter of ancient Greece, grows up too, far from her mother, and makes for herself the fortune of her genius. She creates, or borrows from her brothers, say the Etruscans, Oscans, Samnites, her religion, customs, and uncouth poetry. These are the middle ages of Rome. At last the day of the revival comes for her. Conquered Greece subdues her rude conquerors; and Terence, Horace, Virgil, will be read by posterity. Are we not ourselves, we of the nineteenth century, engaged even now in making one of those revivals, or at least one of those reunions, like the changes wrought formerly by Plato and Aristotle? All the branches of the large human family are about to unite, and to understand each other. Bossuet knew Egypt only through Herodotus; Champollion has revealed Egypt to us. Anquetil Duperron, Eugene Burnouf, and the learned English Asiatic Society, have opened to us the midland Asia; and a beam of light has shone upon the cradle of our languages and traditions. In our days a mysterious need urges us still farther on; and, lo! China and Japan promise to disclose the secret of their life. The sword, that rude ploughshare of civilization, begins, as always, by rending the clay. But have patience and good hope. The philosopher follows close upon the heels of the soldier; and the genius of Aristotle keeps pace with the valour of Alexander. Nay, the place where I am speaking reminds me that often the word of God forestalls the sword of man, and that, in her conquests, charity goes beyond ambition. Does not this congregation send forth a valiant army of Missionaries into the remotest parts of the earth? Like Peter, the glorious apostle, you have become fishers of men, and your nets have inwrapt the globe. Let other and more worthy voices praise you for religion's sake: I shall thank you in the name of humanity. Though enlisted under different banners, you and we fight for the same cause: we are happy in your success. May France and England henceforward know of no other strife; but only vie with each other which shall carry farthest the standard of Christ and civilization! LAST HOURS OF PRINCE ALBERT.* THERE has reached us from abroad a most interesting extract from a letter which was written by a member of the Queen's household shortly after the death of Prince Albert. The extremely confidential position which the writer held at the time not only gives the assurance of perfect reliability, but invests the following lines with a very special interest. After describing the grief and fears of the whole household for the Queen, the writer speaks of the personal loss sustained in the death of Prince Albert :-" How I shall miss his conversation about the children! He used often to come into the schoolroom to speak about the education of the children; and he never left me without my feeling that he had strengthened my hands, and raised the standard I was aiming at. Nothing mean or frivolous could exist in the atmosphere that surrounded him; the conversation could not be trifling if he was in the room. I dread the return of spring for my dear lady. It was his favourite time of the year. The opening leaves, the early flowers, and fresh green, were such a delight to him, and he so loved to point out their beauties to his children, that it will be terrible to see them without him. The children kept his table supplied with primroses, which he especially loved. The last Sunday he passed on earth was a very blessed one for the Princess Alice to look back upon. He was very ill and very weak, and she spent the afternoon alone with him, while the others were in church. He begged to have his sofa drawn to the window, that he might see the sky, and the clouds sailing past. He then asked her to play to him, and she went through several of his favourite hymns and chorals. After she had played some time, she looked round and saw him lying back, his hands folded as if in prayer, and his eyes shut. moving, that she thought he had fallen asleep. smiled. She said, 'Were you asleep, dear papa?' 'only I have such sweet thoughts.' During his illness his hands were often folded in prayer; and, when he did not speak, his serene face showed that the happy thoughts' were with him to the end. The Princess Alice's fortitude has amazed us all. She saw from the first that both her father and mother's firmness depended on her firmness, and she set herself to the duty. He loved to speak openly of his condition, and had many wishes to express. He loved to hear hymns and prayers. He could not speak to the Queen of himself, for she could not bear to listen, and shut her eyes to the * Northern Whig. He lay so long without Presently he looked up and 'O no,' he answered; danger. Her daughter saw that she must act differently, and she never let her voice falter, or shed a single tear, in his presence. She sat by him, listened to all he said, repeated hymns, and then, when she could bear it no longer, would walk calmly to the door, and then rush away to her room, returning soon with the same calm and pale face without any appearance of the agitation she had gone through. I have had several interviews with the poor Queen since. The first time she said, 'You can feel for me, for you have gone through this trial.' Another time she said, how strange it seemed, when she looked back, to see how much for the last six months the Prince's mind had dwelt upon death and the future state; their conversation had so often turned upon these subjects, and they had read together a book called Heaven our Home,' which had interested him very much. He once said to her, 'We don't know in what state we shall meet again; but that we shall recognise each other, and be together in eternity, I am perfectly certain.' It seemed as if it had been intended to prepare her mind and comfort her, though of course it did not strike her then. She said she was a wonder to herself, and she was sure it was in answer to the prayers of her people that she was so sustained. She feared it would not last, and that times of agony were before her. She said, 'There's not the bitterness in this trial that I felt when I lost my mother. I was so rebellious then; but now I can see the mercy and love that are mixed in my trial.' Her whole thought now is to walk worthy of him; and her greatest comfort to think that his spirit is always near her, and knows all that she is doing." RIVER-FISHING IN NORWAY. THE Alten, (says a correspondent of the leading journal, who dates at Trondhjem, August 26th, 1864,) from its size and rapid streams, its succession of pools, and the weight and quantity of fish, is probably the finest salmon river in the world. Taking its rise in the barren, wide-stretching fjeld which constitutes Norwegian Lapland, it pursues a northerly course, eventually reaching the fjord which is called after its name, about three miles from the little station of Bosekop, known to travellers as the starting-point of the mountain-route which leads to the top of the Gulf of Bothnia. About twenty-five miles from the mouth is a foss, which prevents the salmon ascending further. The whole of the fishing from the sea to this is let on a long lease to the Duke of Roxburghe, who, succeeding other British sportsmen like himself, (whose names, incised on the solid portals of Reipas, are still fondly remembered,) by his kindness and liberality to the inhabitants, and the way in which he has identified himself with their language, interests, and wants, is deservedly looked upon as a public benefactor. It was formerly the habit of Norwegians rather to sneer at English salmon-fishers; as, fishing merely for trade and profit themselves, they could not understand the idea of people paying for the privilege of simply catching fish and delivering them up afterwards. Sport was a thing that never entered into their calculation. But, as they have begun to understand and appreciate our countrymen better, these annual visits are looked forward to with increasing eagerness and pleasure. The amount of money that is brought into the country, and the indirect advantages which follow in the wake of a steady increase of travellers, are duly recognised; and Norway has done her part to meet the demands upon her, in making the crooked places straight, and the path easy. It is not too much to say, that no country during the last ten years, considering its limited resources, has made more rapid progress, as evinced in the increased facilities of communication, the laying down of telegraphs, and the formstion of new roads, which for engineering skill are not to be surpassed in Europe. You might now drive your coach through Gulbrandsdal over the Dovre Fjeld. You can telegraph from Trondhjem to wherever a telegram can be sent; and you will soon be able to do so from Hammerfest, the northernmost town in the world. The proprietorship of the Alten is peculiarly constituted, differing from that of any other river in the country; being vested in the hands of a company of one hundred members, all, with the exception of a few Norwegians, chosen out of a tribe of Quâns, who, originally emigrating from Finland, settled on the banks, driving out the Laps, the weaker race, while they in their turn are being supplanted by the hardy Norseman. To these Quâns, as they are called, the possession of the exclusive right of fishing, which in former days was very considerable, was granted by royal charter when Norway was under the dominion of the Danes. They are physically a fine race, very ingenious, and, like most people thrown on their own resources, skilled in all kinds of work; but not so given to hard work, nor so trustworthy, honest, and independent, as the Norwegians; more prone to fishing than to pastoral pursuits. They are first-rate boatmen ; and the build of the river boats, which is very picturesque, is superior to anything of the kind in Norway, and exactly adapted for the purpose. The scenery in the upper part of the fishing is very wild and grand; as the river, cleaving its way through the solid rock, makes magnificent gorges, which, with the overhanging precipices above, and the massive boulders and foaming rapids below, have a very fine effect. To shoot these rapids is a work requiring the nicest skill, not unattended with some risk; and the way the Quâns steer down them is a sight to see. A mistake is fatal, as the boat would be dashed to pieces against the rocks; and in this way two Laps lost their lives two years ago. In ascending the river, the boats are pushed up with poles, or, as it is called in Norwegian, “stagt," as it would be impossible to row them against the stream. It is hard work, and the unpractised hand soon comes to grief. But the natives, one at the stern and the other at the bow, "stage up" as fast as a man can ordinarily walk. As the river nears the sea, it opens out into a green smiling valley. The hills on either side are clad with pines, while below are forests of the graceful birch, interspersed with alder, by the water's edge, with a wild wealth of under-growth of flowers and ferns in almost tropical luxuriance, which one would hardly dream of in this latitude, 70°, and which strikes the beholder, as he first visits these remote regions, with admiration and delight. Comfortable homesteads are seen at intervals, with patches of corn, oats, barley, and sometimes rye, and always a flourishing crop of potatoes, which seem to thrive in this climate. The corn was now (the end of July) in ear; and, considering it was not sown till June, the rapidity of vegetation may be imagined under that glorious summer sun which never sets. All nature rejoices in the genial warmth. "The hills are clothed with gladness, and the valleys laugh and sing," at the waking up of the Arctic summer morn after the Arctic winter night. The natives scarce have time to sleep during the endless day, or, at least, only at odd hours; and Englishmen follow their example, generally resting from their labours during the day. When the weather is hot, the salmon are best wooed and won during the comparatively cooler hours of the night. Nothing can be more enjoyable than one of these fine Arctic nights. The wild solitude, the stillness of the air, unbroken by any sound save the murmur of the water at your feet, the splash of the salmon, or, it may be, the lowing of the cows, with their tinkling bells, all add to the charm of the scene, and enhance the enjoyment. To descend from the ideal to the real, when you have hooked your salmon, go to land and roast him on the quick pine-wood fire, and, with a piece of birch-bark for your plate, you have a repast fit for a queen. Who can describe the exquisite flavour of that fish? Who can paint the colour of those creamy flakes, white as the driven snow? But the Alten, like everything else, has its amari aliquid, which is here found in the myriads of mosquitoes, which amount to a positive pest to both man and beast. Whenever you are fishing, you may observe the fires which the peasants light in the neighbourhood of every "sæter," and there you will always find the cattle congregated, seeking the friendly shelter of the smoke to avoid their incessant tormentors. It was on the 25th of July, one of the brightest of bright Arctic summer days, that the "Racoon" and "Black Eagle" were seen quietly steaming up the Fjord; and when it was known that the son of the Queen of England [the Prince Alfred] was on board, and about to visit the Alten, the excitement and delight of the natives, usually so impassive, were for once fairly aroused. Safe anchorage was found at Kaafjord, close under the mines of the Alten Copper-Works; a spot which Lord Dufferin in his "Letters from High Latitudes" has rendered familiar to most English readers. The next day His Royal Highness, accompanied by the Duke of Roxburghe, Count |